


Starting to Believe

by ktao3



Series: Jack and Miranda: Normandy and ever after [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-10 17:26:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3298295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktao3/pseuds/ktao3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Miranda Lawson spend the night together after the Citadel party, beginning right after the dialogue in the Citadel DLC. Lots of introspection and angst-ing with a little passionate sex. </p><p>Subsequent chapters will look back at time on the Normandy, then forward to the future, following the development of their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jack’s “You wish” hung in the air for a moment. Miranda caught her breath, then looked Jack straight in the eye and said quietly, “Yeah, actually, I do.”

Jack snorted sarcastically and rolled her eyes. “This a little joke you and Kasumi thought would be hilarious?”

Miranda gathered her courage and pushed forward: “No. I’m being serious. Spend the night with me.”

Beer bottle still in hand, Jack formed air quotes with her fingers and said, “I thought that ‘wasn’t a good idea’.”

Miranda came around from behind the bar and stood next to Jack. “I’m sorry I couldn’t deal with everything back then. It’s different now.”

“How’s that? It’s almost exactly the same. We’ll both be gone tomorrow.”

“Now I know I regret that decision.”

“That a bit of a habit for you?” Jack tried to look disinterested by sipping her beer, but over her hand her eyes bored into Miranda’s and there was an edge to her voice.

Miranda sighed as she moved to leave, “I am sorry about that night. But you’re the one who couldn’t resist bringing up my ass and my breasts while we’ve been standing here making conversation. So we’re both interested. And I am really asking you . . . but this is the last time I’m going to ask. Are you coming with me?” She tried to make this last statement slightly suggestive without overdoing it. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears.

Jack considered her silently for a few seconds, then pushed back from the bar. “You know what, cheerleader? You’re on. Let’s go make some regrets.”

*****

A much smaller apartment was linked to Anderson’s through a back passageway. Liara had offered it to Miranda so she could recuperate a bit after the events at the Sanctuary facility. Miranda wasn’t sure why Liara needed this other space, but she had gratefully accepted the offer without question.

They left the party without saying good-bye to those who were still awake. Miranda led Jack through a short hallway to a door, then entered a code on her omnitool. The locks in the door slid open.

As they stepped inside and closed the door behind them, Jack looked around. “What is this place? Is it yours?”

“No . . . . It’s . . . I don’t think I should say.”

“Fine, whatever. Don’t tell me. . . So where’s the bedroom?”

“Would you like something to drink first?” Miranda wanted to slow everything down, to regain her footing. She had wanted Jack to come here with her, but she hadn’t let herself believe it would actually happen. As soon as Shepard had told her Jack would be at the party, she had imagined this moment. But the next one was a little hazy. Should she be aggressive? Let Jack be?

Jack’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Didn’t come here to drink, princess.” Jack moved closer to her. (So maybe “Let Jack be” . . .)

“Is my name still so hard for you to say?” Miranda put her hands on Jack’s hips. It felt familiar, but still exciting and longed-for.

“I didn’t come here to drink, Miranda.” Jack emphasized her name, but with more tenderness and less sarcasm than Miranda would have expected. She stepped into Miranda’s space so their legs were intertwining. Miranda stepped back to lean against the door. Jack looked into her blue eyes for a few seconds: “Right?”

Miranda nodded slightly and responded, “Right.”

“And we’re really gonna do this this time, right? You’re not gonna leave me hanging?”

Miranda said “No” quietly. Jack reached her right hand up to touch Miranda’s cheek and gently kissed her lips. Her chest tightened and tingled the second they made contact. Miranda took Jack’s face in her hands and gently pulled her even closer. They kissed there by the door for a few moments, pushing their bodies as close as they could. Jack remembered that last night on the Normandy. Finally Miranda pulled back. She looked down. “Jack?”

“Yeah?”

Miranda raised her eyes to look into Jack’s brown ones. “Do you really still hate me?”

Jack’s eyes betrayed a mix of emotions, and one of them was definitely hurt. She shook her head almost imperceptibly. “Are you really asking me that?”

Miranda pushed off the door and took Jack’s hand, lacing their fingers. “No. Come on.” She led Jack toward the bedroom.

Miranda guided Jack to the end of the bed. “Take off your jacket and sit here.” The only light came in from the hallway. The half-light gave Miranda even more courage.

“Oh, now you’re in charge?” Jack laughed sarcastically. She crossed her arms across her chest: “Why don’t you take it off for me?”

This parrying put Miranda even more at ease. This was more like the way they usually were together. Her hand moved to the zipper by her breast as she asked, “But then who’s going to unzip this?”

Jack moved to put her left hand over Miranda’s. “Oh, I think I can handle this . . .” She slid the zipper down slowly until there was enough room so that she could slip her hand inside the clingy fabric to cup Miranda’s breast over a familiar black bra (“Did she wear this for me?” she wondered). Her thumb caressed the curve of the breast then slid over the nipple as she raised her eyes to meet Miranda’s. Using both hands, she gently opened the top even more until finally it slipped down Miranda's arms and hung from her hips. She took in the view of Miranda’s breasts and taut abdomen. She let out a breath of admiration.

“Still amazing . . .”

Miranda reached up to push the jacket down off Jack’s shoulders: “This has got to go now.” The jacket slid to the floor, and Miranda pushed Jack back toward the bed, her hand flat against Jack’s chest. She pressed until Jack’s knees hit the bed and she had to sit down. She climbed on top, but Jack said, “Uh-uh, cheerleader. I’m on top first.” She hooked her arm around Miranda’s waist and switched their positions with one fluid motion (not that Miranda resisted). She stayed between Miranda’s legs, but flattened her hips to rest against her body, leaning on her elbows. She kissed the top of one breast, then the other, then held her head up to face Miranda. Jack could feel Miranda’s excitement pouring from every part her.

“Jack . . .” It was hard to decipher everything Miranda meant in the way she said the name. She clearly wanted Jack. But she wanted more than her body. And she wanted more than one night. But if this was all she could have, she wanted to really experience it. “Jack . . . come here.” Miranda pulled the smaller woman up till they were face to face and could feel the rise and fall of each other’s chests. “I want to be close to you.”

Jack held Miranda’s gaze, but her brain was racing with questions and a sense of vertigo. What the fuck was going on here, exactly? Not fucking, that was for sure. She had told herself that Miranda was just horny and knew Jack would probably be willing. She thought maybe Miranda really did regret missing the chance to experience being with her. But now all that talk about Miranda finding it admirable that she was growing as a person took on new weight. The look the older woman was giving her wasn’t really lustful. Well, it wasn’t only lustful . . .

Jack began to feel like she was swimming in deeper waters than she had intended. On the one hand, it made her want to get the hell out of that bed and walk back to the dying moments of Shepard’s party where it was safe. But on the other . . . it felt nice here. Was it so unbelievable that maybe someone could want her for more than just fucking her body? It had happened before. And what the hell was with that “Do you really still hate me?” What was going on in Miranda’s head? Jack thought—Brain, just shut the fuck up for two seconds . . .

“Jack?” Miranda touched Jack’s face. She could see that she was retreating into herself. And that retreat was creating more room for her own doubts to grow. Jack was right—this was just like before. It was probably even worse than before. Now they would really probably never see each other again . . .

“Yeah, cheerleader. I’m right here.”

Miranda wanted to say, “I’m so glad you came back with me. I’ve been thinking about this for months.” But instead she said, “Help me get this off of you” and, she began to grapple with the cloth wrapped around Jack’s chest. Their doubts were propelling them both to action. Anything was better than thinking about the implications of the moment. Miranda gasped, “I need to feel you against me.”

The next few minutes were a frenzy of activity. Taking each other’s clothes off and taking their own clothes off. Getting under the covers, and kissing and grasping at each other. Then they were naked in each other’s arms. Kissing again. Touching one another’s breasts and hips and shoulders and asses, and most definitely not talking to each other.

Eventually the frenzy slowed down. Jack shifted so she was leaning on her left elbow and hip, lying by Miranda’s right side. She slid her right hand off the curve of Miranda’s left hip and onto the small swell of her belly. Miranda’s skin was so soft that touching it was making Jack feel kind of emotional. She spoke quietly. “Damn, Miranda, your body really is . . . fantastic.” She spread her fingers and circled a caress around Miranda’s navel. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that. But she definitely meant it.

She kissed Miranda’s collarbone and neck and cheek, all the time making slightly larger circles until her hand was brushing soft hair as she moved it between Miranda’s hip bones. Between kisses she whispered, “Is this okay?” She didn’t look in Miranda’s eyes. She couldn’t.

Miranda’s heart was clenched in her chest and her throat felt too dry and tight to speak. She wanted to scream, “Jack, please! Yes!” She’d had no trouble shattering the eardrums of random one night stands in the past. But now . . . she thought about karma, how strange, even ridiculous, it was for her to fall so hard for Jack. But here she was. She swallowed hard, and gasped for breath, but she couldn’t make herself speak. So she put her hand on top of Jack’s, and started to push them together down her belly to between her legs. Thankfully, Jack didn’t need much encouragement.

When Jack’s fingers finally slid over Miranda’s slick and swollen clit, they both said “Oh God!” at the exact same time. It would’ve seemed funny--they might have even laughed--if they hadn’t both been in such a desperate state by the time it happened. After that, Jack’s fingers began to circle and outline the tight little bud covered in thick wetness. Miranda’s hands caressed her back and pulled her close. Soon her nails were digging into Jack’s shoulders while her mouth was sucking and licking Jack’s soft tongue. Jack was concentrating on every signal from Miranda’s body, responding with more of each movement that brought on a reaction of pleasure. Between kisses she whispered in Miranda’s ear, “Miranda, you feel so amazing. I love how wet you are for me . . .”

With that, the insistent fingers on her Miranda’s aching pearl became too much. She couldn’t last as long as she wanted, and couldn’t stop herself crying out Jack’s name as her back was arching. She collapsed back onto the bed, repeating “Oh God. Jack! Fuck!” in various combinations. With her eyes closed, she finally said Jack’s name again with a sort of laugh of disbelief. Jack was holding her hand between Miranda’s legs, her palm resting gently on the softening clitoris still surging with sensation. Her head rested heavily on Miranda’s breast, listening to the pounding of her heart, slowing in time with her own. In her head, Jack was thinking “Oh God” too. Beyond that simple, silent exclamation, her thoughts and her feelings were unclear to her. Miranda’s deathgrip had loosened, but she was still holding on to her tightly.

After a quiet minute, Jack pushed back up on her elbow and looked down at Miranda again. She could see her blue eyes were glistening a little.

“Miranda? Are you okay?” She wanted to be reassured that she was okay. That everything that had just happened between them had been okay. Better than okay . . .  


“I’m far better than okay.”

Ah, but actually hearing this was a whole other thing. There was that tone in her voice again, seeming to push into Jack’s chest. Jack wanted to be able to embrace it, but instead she moved her body slightly away. It felt necessary and awful in the same second. And still--though she was desperate to divert Miranda from reaching too far into her, she didn’t want to let go completely. She wanted to keep feeling close to her. To keep being close to her. To feel wanted by her and to be able to admit to herself that she wanted her back. But that was very complicated and uncomfortable. It was too much to handle in the moment.

Seeking balance in the waves of her emotional confusion, Jack used her thumb to trace the raised mark on Miranda’s cheek—the last outward sign of her fight with Kai Leng. “So how exactly did you let this happen, cheerleader? I’ve seen you fight. You’re better than this.”

Miranda tried to assess the situation. She had felt the moving away, and now this sudden change of topic . . . Her doubts returned, topped with disappointment. But—they were still touching; they were still here together. She just wanted them to stay together till morning, even if they were just talking about stupid Kai Leng.

“Well, I was a bit distracted by my father holding a gun to my sister’s head.”

“Ah, that would be a distraction. I can barely fight worth shit anymore fucking worrying about all my kids.”

“It must be hard. I know you care about them a lot.”

Nope, Jack thought, we are not going down that road either. The only feelings that were more overwhelming than what she was feeling right now were her feelings about her kids “Oh no you don’t. Don’t try to get out of telling the story of your defeat.”

“My almost-defeat, you mean . . . Honestly, if Shepard hadn’t gotten there when she did . . . I don’t know. That might have been it. For me, at least. All I really cared about was saving Ori.” Miranda was looking up at the ceiling, no longer even trying to meet Jack’s gaze as she remembered those dark moments. “When I was on the floor, I think . . . I think it was her life that was passing before my eyes. I just want her to get to fall in love and have children. To keep having the normal life I’ll never have and be happy. . .” As she spoke, her voice got quieter. It broke a little. Jack put her hand back on Miranda’s belly.

They were both silent for a moment. As much as Jack had wanted to pull away before, the rawness of Miranda’s emotions was drawing her in. Miranda’s openness was palpable, and Jack want to hold it. To hold it so she could protect her. She didn’t move when Miranda reached to put her own hand over Jack’s.

Talking into the darkness in the corner of the room, avoiding looking right at Miranda, she said, “Miranda, you can have that normal life, if you want to. Just stop doing all this non-normal shit you do, running around the universe. Settle down. Have some kids. You can have that life if you want it. No one’s gonna stop you but yourself.”

Miranda let out a sad little laugh. “I’m afraid someone already did.”

Jack turned to face her. “What are you talking about?” Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, Jack wondered if she was talking about her—that somehow she was stopping Miranda from having that life. But how did that make any sense? On the other hand, how did any of this whole situation make any sense?

Miranda said quietly, “I can’t have children.”

“What do you mean?” Jack heard her, but she wasn’t understanding.

Miranda sounded both sad and bitter as she continued. “I mean my body can’t produce a child. Something about my father’s brilliant genetic plans didn’t quite come together. Or maybe this was his plan, for all I know. His version of the perfect daughter—unable to have a family beyond what he created.”

Jack wondered if Miranda even noticed that she was pressing their hands against her belly. It made Jack sad. Miranda let out a long sigh, “With the whole bloody galaxy coming to an end, I guess none of it matters anyway . . .”

They were both quiet again. Jack wanted to think of the right thing to say, but didn’t trust herself to come up with it. Miranda was showing so much trust in her, and she couldn’t understand why. She wanted to look away, lie down on the bed and face the ceiling. Stop holding hands. Even just get the hell out of there.

But she knew all of that would be wrong. When someone reached out to trust you, you couldn’t just push their hand away. Then you would be no better than any of the other fuckers in the fucked-up universe. The only thing that seemed safe to do was stay right where she was and say “I’m sorry.”

“Oh. . . No. Jack. Jack, I’m sorry. This conversation was definitely not part of my seduction plans.”

“Seduction plans?”

“You’re here aren’t you?” Miranda smiled a little.

Jack smiled back, but turned serious again. “Miranda, I really am sorry.” There was quiet again, then she continued, “We can talk about whatever, you know. I’m not just some one-night fuck. We can talk to each other.” (Where the fuck did that come from? she thought.)

Miranda was surprised by the emotion in Jack's voice. “I know that. And I never thought you were that. Ever. For two people who hate each other, we talk quite a lot.”

Jack lifted their joined hands in exasperation. “I don’t hate you!” She released a long breath. “I know what I said back at Shepard’s, but you know I don’t mean it. It’s just . . .”

“I know. It’s just . . . our joke. Not a very funny joke, mind you. Maybe we did hate each other, before. But that seems like a really long time ago now.”

“Right. Let’s just forget that. That’s all over. Okay?”

“Sure. Okay.”

Jack put her head down on the pillow next to Miranda’s. Finally, Miranda said, “Maybe we should get back to my original seduction plans. I haven’t even touched you. That’s rather rude of me.” She reached over to put her hand on top of Jack’s breast and began to caress it gently.

But Jack was too emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed to think about having sex at this point. Everything had become way too complicated for that. She lifted Miranda’s hand up to her face and kissed her palm.

“Oh, you were touching me, believe me, cheerleader. But it’s getting really late. I’m tired. And you’re tired. And I have to meet up with my students really early. Just curl up next to me. Let’s sleep like we used to. That would be good.”

Miranda’s disappointments surfaced again. Why had she even said all those things? But at least Jack wanted to stay with her. Wanted to hold her. She was actually tired too.

Miranda rolled over, then scooted back until her body was pressed against Jack’s. Jack put her arm around her and pulled her close. She kissed her back.

Jack spoke. “I’m glad I, um, fell for your seduction plan. It was really . . . good.” Wow, that was totally inadequate. “I’m glad we’re . . . friends.” God, fucking words were useless. “I mean, whatever we are, I’m glad we’re here together.”

Miranda held Jack’s hand to her chest. “Me too. Thank you for staying.”

“I wish we could just keep staying. Everything’s so fucked. But this isn’t.” Jack listened to her own words with amazement. She was going to have to think about all this. And she totally wasn’t going to have time to do it.

“Jack, you’re really good in bed.”

“Shit, you’re delirious. You better get some sleep, beautiful. There’s still a lot of war ahead of us.”

Miranda started to drift off holding on to the things that had meant the most to her that night. The way Jack touched her. The way Jack said “. . . friends.” The way Jack said “beautiful.” She was starting to believe this could turn into something real, if Shepard could find a way to keep the universe from imploding all around them.

 

TO BE CONTINUED (Next, what did happen back on the Normandy?)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened back on the Normandy . . . the story of moving from mutual distrust/dislike to potential romantic interest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with more appearances from Shepard, but still with the same old angst-ing and introspection. This time the passionate sex will have to wait till our next chapter. But hopefully you'll still enjoy!

The mess hall of the Normandy was strangely hushed after the chaos on the Collector base, but one voice stood out among the groans of the injured.

  
“Fuck! That was a fight!” Jack seemed drunk, swaying while sitting on one of the mess hall benches—hyped up from the orgy of violence they had all just barely survived. While Shepard, Garrus, Miranda, and Jacob worked to tend to the wounded, she loudly recounted the glories of battle. “Man, I love it when their bodies explode in a shower of unholy goo!” She laughed a little too hard. Shepard and Garrus exchanged glances across the room. She pointed at Kasumi, “They never even see you coming. Then bam! And you!” She gestured at Thane. “. . . a total murder machine under that fancy suit. Hell, even the cheerleader got in some good shots! Man, I could go for another 5 hours.” She stood up to say something to Shepard and promptly collapsed in a heap.

  
Shepard moved quickly to her side. She knelt to check her pulse and touched her face. “I think she’s just exhausted.” Shepard picked Jack up, surprised by her lightness. She looked around to see that almost every flat surface in the medical bay and mess hall was already taken. Miranda approached to say, “Shepard, you can put her in my bed. I don’t think we should leave her alone in this state. For all our sakes.” She didn’t say she couldn’t bear the thought of an unconscious Jack being left by herself on a hard metal cot.

  
Shepard squinted her eyes with doubt. “You sure about this, Miranda?”

  
“I’m sure.”

  
“Okay. But tell me if this becomes a problem. There’s enough drama to deal with already.”

  
Miranda gave her a nod. “There won’t be any problem, commander.”

  
After leaving Jack in the bed, they carried on helping crew members who had been held on the collector base or injured in the fighting. Eventually Miranda began to be overtaken by exhaustion too. All the biotics had been pushed to their limits. She let Shepard know she needed a break and headed to her cabin.

* * * *

When had Miranda started to care about Jack’s being on that cot? Caring about her comfort or her aloneness? She couldn’t quite trace an exact moment, but now she cared.

  
She had thought bringing Jack into the mission was a terrible decision from the start. She was volatile, unpredictable. She seemed the very definition of a loose cannon—more likely to cause damage to her fellows than any enemy.

  
But Shepard had many gifts that made her a great leader. The ability to find the good qualities in almost anyone—and bring them out. And then the ability to help others see those qualities. She insisted that everyone on board worked on understanding others instead of just dismissing them. God, it was exhausting how she worked to make a positive out of every situation, how she demanded the best out of each of them at every moment—including herself.

  
At first, Shepard had patiently listened to Miranda’s complaints about Jack, staying silent. But over time, she began to speak up in Jack’s defense. One day she had said, “I really think you should look through that file again and consider everything Jack has been through. Would any of us be any different from the way she is, under those circumstances?” When Miranda had needed Shepard’s help on Ilium, Shepard had brought Jack along to help. When Jack had asked to destroy the Teltin facility, Shepard had agreed to help. And insisted on taking Miranda along. When Jack and MIranda had fought after, Shepard had stopped them but had not taken sides.

  
One evening, Miranda and Shepard had been working in her office, going over plans and strategies and inventories--assessing their preparedness to take on the collectors. Miranda had dismissed Jack’s potential contributions, as always. But this time Shepard wasn’t having it. “You know, Miranda, she wouldn’t keep antagonizing you if you didn’t always stick up for Cerberus. You know what they did at Teltin was wrong.” She had held up her hand. “Don’t even bother defending them to me.”

  
Shepard had leaned back in her chair, speaking only after a second of silence. “I honestly think she’s the strongest of us all. That she can still function at all after the things she’s been put through—it’s a testament to an incredible will. Yes, she’s lashed out at a universe that let her be treated that way. I know, she’s done things that are wrong. But inside, she doesn’t want to be a victimizer. She let Aresh go at Teltin—she showed compassion. You saw it! Do you know she writes poetry down there? She draws. She has an inner life. I know she wants to connect to other people, but her trust has been violated so many times.”

  
Shepard had sighed and continued, “I wish she weren’t on this mission— but for her sake, not ours. The absolute last thing she needs is more violence in her life. But at least this got her out of prison. She needs care, not punishment. If she can survive this mission, survive the universe taking this last pound of flesh from her . . . I think she will surprise you with the things she will do. I know you’ve come to value my judgment, at least in some things. You should trust me on this.” Miranda had had no response, sarcastic or serious.

  
After that moment, Miranda’s perspective had started to change. She saw the strength in Jack. She knew Shepard was usually right, especially about people. She started to see Jack through Shepard’s eyes.

*****

Now, Miranda watched Jack sleeping in her bed. Somehow she had never really seen how beautiful she was. She thought to herself, “God, what the hell am I thinking?” Some vital spark in Jack kept her coming back to try and understand it. It stirred her curiosity. Miranda shook her head in disbelief as she realized the similarities between them. Having to find a way to survive in the universe, alone, at a young age. Of course, Miranda had had many more advantages. It made Jack seem that much more remarkable.

  
Miranda looked closely to make sure Jack was really asleep. She had truly exhausted herself in the fighting. Miranda turned to strip out of her clothes. She pulled on a soft t-shirt, appreciating its simple comfort after such a hard day. She found some shorts, too, and pulled an extra blanket from a drawer. She settled down on the couch near the bed. She flipped over so she wasn’t facing the bed. “Miranda,” she thought, “you have got to get a grip on yourself.”

  
Sometime later, Miranda was awoken by Jack crying out. Instinctively, she went to her, gently touching her upper arm. “Jack! Wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

  
Jack’s eyes flew open. “Cheerleader! What the fuck?” She tried to push herself up.

  
“You’re having a nightmare.”

  
“What are you doing here? Where the hell am I?”

  
“You’re in my bed.”

  
“What the fuck?!” Jack sprang up from the mattress and tried to stand up. But she was still exhausted, and had to immediately sit down on the couch as a wave of weakness and nausea overcame her.

  
“You passed out. Shepard thought it was best for you to stay on this deck,” Miranda lied. “Medical is filled up. Even the mess hall. So I offered the bed.”

  
Jack sat with her face in her hands, still feeling sick. “Thought you could finish our fight while I’m in a weakened state, huh? I wouldn’t try it, princess.”

  
“What are you talking about?”

  
“Our fight. The fight Shepard postponed till after the mission. Well, the mission’s over.”

  
Miranda just shook her head. “Jack, we’re not fighting.” She sighed. She sighed again, and sat down on the far end of the couch. “Jack, I was wrong. Cerberus was wrong. They are wrong. And I’ve been wrong to defend them. I’m leaving them.”

  
Jack turned her head and stared at Miranda in disbelief. Anger flashed in her eyes, but only for a fraction of a second. She turned away from her, shaking her head. Her reply was surprisingly quiet. “Shit, cheerleader. Took you fucking long enough.”

  
Miranda didn’t respond to that. All her thoughts and feelings began to spill out. “I knew there were—practices—that pushed the boundaries. But I never would have believed the things that were happening at Teltin. Never. That the Illusive Man would allow them. Now I know he only cares about his own power. If humanity benefits, all the better, but it’s really all for him.”

  
She paused, but couldn’t stop herself from continuing. “When I ran away from home, I had nothing. No one. Just my brains and knowledge of my father’s work. I needed someone to help me protect my sister from him. I’m going to have to figure out a way to be sure Oriana is safe, but I’m done with Cerberus. I’ve wasted my life working for one monster after running away from another.” She was quiet again for a moment. Jack was looking at her, but her face was unreadable.

  
“Jack, I swear, I would’ve never let any of that go on if I had known. And I should’ve known. I’m sorry. I was stupid, and naïve, and not wanting to believe. But I should’ve known. I know it doesn’t matter or change anything, but you should get to hear me say it.”

  
She sat in a state of profound sadness, but she didn’t cry. Miranda was not often given to tears in any case, but she knew it would be wrong to cry now. She had to face her failures with strength. It was all she had left.

  
Jack finally said, “Yeah, you were fucking wrong! No fucking kidding.” But then she shrugged slightly, her hands out and palms to the ceiling: “You had a sister to worry about. I might have done the same fucking thing, if I ever had anyone to take care of. Everything’s fucked in this life, and we’re all just in the middle of it. I just wanted you to admit it for once. That you were wrong. That you can be wrong. That fucking Cerberus is fucking evil. You walk around acting like you’re so perfect, like you’re not human like the rest of us. It’s just fucking annoying . . . but what the fuck ever.” She let out a breath. “Shepard says we all need a way to cope with the shit of life. I guess you just cope with your “I’m perfect” act. Maybe your father just fucked your head. I’m done being mad at you. You weren’t even there. You admit it was wrong. You say you’re gonna leave. So . . . I’m over it. Okay?” She held out her hand to shake Miranda’s.

  
Miranda considered the hand in stunned silence, then reached out to shake it. “Okay.” Their eyes met for a moment. “Please, don’t say anything to anyone about my leaving Cerberus. Shepard knows, but no one else.”

  
Jack said, “Sure,” then stood up, though she swayed a little. “I guess I better get back downstairs.”

  
Miranda stood up, between her and the door. “Jack, no. Please, just sleep in the bed till morning. I won’t bother you. If you leave, Shepard’s just going to think I drove you out.”

  
Jack crossed her arms and looked at the ceiling for a moment, exhaling loudly again. “You do have a soft bed, cheerleader. There’s a lot of people on this ship that would love to find that out. Not that I’m one of them.”

  
Miranda couldn’t believe how her heart dropped when Jack said that.

  
Then Jack sat back down on the bed. “I’ll stay till morning. Maybe it’ll give your reputation a boost.” She gave Miranda a very brief smile. Miranda smiled back and said “Maybe. If I’m lucky . . .” She laid down on the couch, incredulous that Jack could be so—warm? kind?—to her after everything, after all this time. Her head was swimming. Looked like Shepard was right, as always.

  
Jack turned to look out the window into space. After a few seconds, she said, “C’mon, cheerleader. Come get in your bed.”

  
Miranda didn’t know how to react. She finally said, “No, Jack, I’m fine here. Get some sleep; you need it.”

  
Jack, still facing away from her, said quietly, “I sleep better when there’s someone in bed with me.” Miranda imagined Jack on her cot. She got up and moved to the bed. Without asking Jack or questioning herself, she moved right behind her and put her hand on Jack’s hip. “Me too,“ she lied.

  
When Miranda woke up the first time, Jack was snuggled up against her. When she woke up again, Jack was gone.

*****

The next day was busy. Miranda continued to help with the wounded, and this time Jack was helping too, much more subdued than the day before. She seemed like maybe she was embarrassed about how she had acted after the battle. It was hard to know what she was thinking. They acknowledged one another with a glance here and there, but they didn’t speak.

  
Miranda did talk to Shepard about what each of their next steps might be. Shepard was planning to turn herself into the Alliance, but Miranda wasn’t willing to join her in that. Miranda knew the Reapers were a real threat, and when the time came, she would do everything she could to help Shepard defeat them. But she had other priorities first. Taking care of Oriana, taking down Cerberus.

  
Jack was eventually overcome by tiredness and felt like she had been around too many people for a little too long. She retreated to her “room.” She lay on her cot thinking. The day before had been overwhelming, between the fighting and Miranda’s admission of being in the wrong. She remembered how it felt with Miranda curled against her back. What the hell? In bed with the cheerleader—she never would’ve thought that would happen. Maybe they both had just needed some feeling of physical comfort and safety after almost dying in that fucking Collector nightmare.

  
Jack thought about how it had felt to just let her anger at Miranda go. Shepard kept telling her she could have an opportunity to start life anew, to not ignore her past but at the same time to not allow it to control her. Maybe her life would really change. Lost in her thoughts, Jack drifted off to sleep.

  
Suddenly Jack found herself gasping for breath, hands wrapped around her throat. Hate-filled eyes stared down at her as the fingers around her throat tightened their grip. Swinging her arms wildly, she flung herself . . . off the cot, onto the cold, metal floor. She lay there dazed for a second, trying to calm herself down. She couldn’t stop shivering. It was the middle of the night. The next thing she knew, she was in front of Miranda’s door. When Miranda was suddenly standing there, she couldn’t say anything. But Miranda just said, “Jack, come on” and they had both gotten into bed together without a word.

  
In the morning Jack lay awake for a while, not wanting to leave. Finally, still looking away from Miranda she said, “I’m sorry I just showed up here last night. It won’t happen again.” But Miranda had gently squeezed her waist with her hand and replied, “It’s no trouble, Jack. It’s a big bed. You’re welcome to share it any time you want. Who knows where we’ll all end up next? We both might be wishing we could be in this bed in a couple weeks.” Jack didn’t really hear everything Miranda said; she just felt her hand gently holding her as she talked.

 *****

On the fifth night Jack came to sleep in Miranda’s bed, she lay there watching as Miranda got out of her catsuit. Miranda had said, “Jack!” in a slightly scolding, but maybe also slightly flirty way, but she hadn’t said she had to turn away.

  
Jack had just said, “That’s a very hot bra. And a very lucky one.”

  
Miranda had rolled her eyes and turned her back to take the black bra off and carefully place it on the couch still in Jack’s view. After she had pulled on a t-shirt, Miranda had said, “Face that window and go to sleep!” Jack thought she still sounded a little flirty, but she thought maybe she was just wishing it was.

  
At some point early in the morning, she had another nightmare as she so often did and Miranda woke her as usual. But this time, after Miranda woke her up and rubbed her shoulder saying, “It’s just a dream, Jack,” she turned to face her.

  
“Jack, are you alright?” Miranda’s blue eyes were wide, and looking deep into her brown ones with concern.

  
And then Jack had kissed her. And Miranda had kissed her back. Their mouths were open, their tongues were gently touching, and it felt amazing. Jack’s heart was pounding. Miranda was a good kisser and beginning to push against her . . . and suddenly, Miranda pulled away.

  
“Jack, this isn’t a good idea.”

  
“No, cheerleader, it’s a great idea.” Jack touched her face.

  
“I don’t think you’ve ever even used my name.”

  
Jack had looked at her with a strange look on her face then. Was that really true? The situation was so confusing. But she wasn’t easily distracted.

  
“Miranda, it’s a great idea.” She had leaned forward to kiss her again, and Miranda had kissed back-- again. And stopped--again.

  
Miranda sighed, looking into Jack's eyes, then looking away. “Jack, it’s not that. It's . . . I won’t be here tomorrow night.”

  
“What?”

  
“I’m leaving. Jack, I’m leaving tomorrow. Shepard is letting Jacob and me and some other Cerberus--former Cerberus--personnel disembark at . . . a . . . secret location at some point tomorrow. I can’t say where and when.”

  
“Were you going to mention this to me?” Jack moved to sit up in the bed, her cheeks reddening and anger building in her chest.

  
“Jack, Shepard didn’t want us to tell anyone. There are other people. It had to be a secret. I wanted to tell you. And I swear I was going to tell you in the morning. I wanted to just spend one more peaceful night together. I didn’t think THIS would happen.”

  
“You kissed me back!”

  
Miranda put her hand to her forehead. “I know. I know I did. I’m sorry. I mean, I am not sorry I kissed you. But we can’t do this. That’s why I have to stop this. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  
Jack turned to sit on the edge of the bed and face out the window. “Oh. Yeah. Great. Thanks. That’s really noble of you.”

  
“How would you feel if we slept together and then I was gone tomorrow? I don’t want to do that. To either of us.”

Jack continued to look away from Miranda. She felt a little like she was falling. Why was everything always shitty in the end? She contemplated her options and tried to figure out what she wanted. "We could still be together now . . ." she offered.

Miranda's voice lacked all of its usual confidence. "Jack, we can't. I can't."

  
Jack sighed and stood up. “Fine, what the fuck ever. I guess this is good-bye then.”

  
Miranda stood up too. “Jack . . .stay.”

  
“I am not sleeping here now.”

  
Miranda looked down, pain beginning to fill her chest. How had she let this get to this point? “Okay. I understand. Jack, I’m sorry.”

  
“Yeah, as usual.”

  
“Fine. Maybe I deserve that. But I really am trying to keep from hurting you at the same time that I’m trying to keep a promise to Shepard and keep some other people safe.”

  
Jack arrived at the door and stopped for a second. Without turning around she said, “Bye, Miranda. Good luck out there.”

  
“You too, Jack. I wish . . . things were different.”

“Yeah, well, that’s pretty much literally the story of my life.” And then Jack walked out. She was disgusted to find herself crying in frustration in her cot. But she didn’t let it go on too long. And she didn’t leave her "room" at all the next day.

*****

  
Miranda’s head was swimming with thoughts when she left the ship. She wondered if she would ever see Shepard again. She wondered how long she could outrun the assassins the Illusive Man would likely send to kill her. She wondered how she would keep Oriana safe. But a little piece of her heart was reserved to just hoping she might see Jack again one day. She asked Shepard to please say good-bye for her, and ignored the knowing look Shepard had given her. Then she stepped into a new life she could only guess the shape of.

 

TO BE CONTINUED (Next, what happens after the night of Shepard's party?)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We now return to the morning after Shepard's Citadel Party, then continue from there. I know that in game play it might not be possible for Jack and Miranda to meet again at the Citadel three weeks later, but it's important for my headcanon!

Back in the Citadel apartment, after what felt like only one minute, Miranda was awoken by the sound of an alarm. Jack struggled to turn it off with her arms still wrapped around Miranda.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jack laughed a little and kissed her on the shoulder. For just a second, before she remembered everything that was happening in the galaxy outside of this room, Miranda’s heart felt light. Then, remembering all of that and that they’d soon be apart again, she couldn’t suppress a sigh.

Jack pulled her close, her breasts pressed against Miranda’s back. “I’ve gotta leave in about half an hour. I wanted to wake you up so it wasn’t like I was walking out on you.”

Miranda turned in Jack’s arms to face her. “Thank you.” She reached up to touch her face. She ran her fingers over the short hair on the side of Jack’s head, and then twirled the longer strands on her fingers, keeping eye contact the whole time.

“Sooo, the hair’s not so bad after all, is it?”

“Not so bad.” Miranda moved closer to kiss her, cupping the back of her head. When she finally pulled away, she said, “Jack, I’m glad we . . .” She smiled, unable to settle on a word.

“Yeah, me too. I wish we could stay here and keep at it. But you know how it is.” She pushed the covers down off their shoulders to their hips. For a moment, she just looked at Miranda, tracing her jawline with a finger. Then she rested her hand on Miranda's left breast. “I just want to remember this, for when things get shitty.” She sighed. “Which will be really soon.”

Jack rolled on her back, then swung her legs off the bed and sat up. Her chest was literally aching at the thought of leaving Miranda. Inside her head, she heard her own voice say “Fuck. She was right back on the Normandy. This fucking sucks . . .”

Jack stood up and began to gather her clothes. She picked up Miranda’s and put them on the bed.

Miranda watched silently for a few seconds, then she sat up, crossing her arms on top of her knees: “When do you think you and your students will be coming back here?”

“Maybe in a few weeks, if we’re not all dead by then.”

With a growing sense of sadness, Miranda watched Jack get dressed. She said, “If I can get back here, would you want to try to get together?”

“Where are you going to be?”

“I’m not exactly sure. Taking out some other Cerberus facilities, helping the Alliance however I can. I’m sure Cerberus will be after me. I really don’t know. But if you’re going to be here, I promise I’ll do everything I can to meet you.”

Jack was looking at the floor, buttoning her pants. “Miranda, I’d like for us to get together again. But I don’t know if it’s going to happen.”

“I know. I understand. I just wanted you to know I want to.”

“It would be nice.” Jack pulled on her jacket.

Miranda got out of the bed to cross the space separating them. She wrapped her arms around Jack’s neck and pressed her body as close as she could. Jack hesitated a little, then hugged her too, resting her cheek on Miranda’s shoulder and inhaling the scent of her hair one last time.

Miranda kept holding on. Hesitating between words, she forced herself to say, “I know this timing is ridiculous . . . but Jack, I like you.”

Jack felt the same sensation of almost drowning she had felt the night before, but she managed to say, “Me too.” Followed immediately by, “I’ve gotta go.” As Miranda stepped back, Jack took her hands and glanced down at her body again. “Not that you’re making it easy.”

“I’m not sure if I should apologize or say thank you.”

“Don’t apologize.” Jack gently pulled her hands away. “But I’ve really gotta go. You know someone might see me leaving . . .”

“I don’t think anyone will, but if they do, I don’t care.”  


“I’m going to say good-bye to Shepard. If she asks where I went . . . “

“I think she’s on to us, Jack.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

They were quiet for another moment. Miranda could see that Jack was struggling. She said, “Jack, you have to go. Promise to stay safe.”  


“I’ll try. You promise too.”

“I promise.”

Did her voice have to be so sexy? That fucking accent. Jack felt like she couldn’t breathe as she turned to leave. Without looking back, she said, “Get in touch if you can.”

“I will.”

Jack walked out feeling more naked than Miranda.

After Jack had gone, Miranda went back to sit on the bed. She kept telling herself, “It would’ve hurt worse to have missed this chance again.” But it still hurt.

*****

Life went on, as abnormal as it had been since the Reaper invasion had begun. Miranda flew from black site to black site, destroying, sabotaging, and salvaging as appropriate. She reported to Hackett’s people and stayed one step ahead of the Illusive Man’s. When she found time to rest, she would lie in bed and worry about Oriana and Jack. A week or so after they had been together, she sent a message to Jack’s omnitool from a public extranet terminal.

I miss you. Stay safe. —M

With Cerberus on the lookout, she was afraid to communicate too often. Days and nights blended together, hopping from star system to star system, destroying a network of bases and laboratories she had once worked to build.

One day, a couple weeks after the party, Miranda received an encrypted message like others she had received in the past from Liara. Her heart stopped for a second as she contemplated the dire consequences for all of them if something had happened to Shepard. As she worked to decode the message, her fear turned to happiness. The message read, “J will be there this Friday. 2 nights. Come if you can. Stay safe.”

Miranda mentally ran through the plans she had laid out for her crew for the next few days. There was no way she could change them now, so making it to the Citadel by Friday wasn’t going to happen. But she knew she could make it by Saturday afternoon, and she would. Her heart was racing as she sent a message back to Liara: “I will be there Saturday after noon. Be safe.”

****

For Jack and her students, the previous weeks had been like an unending, waking nightmare. Although they were only providing support to those on the front lines, they were still surrounded by hideous Reaper forces and death. The students were strained to their limits.

So it was no surprise that Friday night found them dancing, partying, and laughing a little too hard at Purgatory. Jack was there with them, dancing but not drinking. She could’ve used a drink, but she didn’t want to lose control in front of them, and she didn’t want to be hungover for the next day. She watched her kids with a mixture of sadness and amusement. Although at first they were happy for her to be there with them, dancing, eventually she could tell they wished she would leave so they could really cut loose. But she couldn’t stop watching over them.

No, she thought, if you’re going to make stupid decisions, you’re not going to do it on my watch. As the night wore on, some went off to get some sleep—or maybe sneak alcohol or stronger drugs elsewhere. Others gradually stopped trying to hide the relationships that were forming between them. She ribbed them good-naturedly and stayed there dancing till early in the morning. She was in no hurry to be alone. But finally, she needed to sleep. She walked over to where Prangley and Rodriguez were dancing slow and close, and shouted at them, “If you two idiots decide to have sex, you better be safe!” They both looked horrified. It made her laugh. She thought, Guess I really am turning into a fucking adult.

She headed off to the apartment where Shepard’s party had been. She used a code Liara had sent to her to get in that apartment, then a second code to get to the smaller apartment where she and Miranda had spent the night together. There was a small refrigerator there, and she found water and fruit inside. Fruit? What kind of connections did Liara have? It wasn’t really clear what was up with this place, but she was just glad to be someplace clean and private. She sat alone at the table, eating, savoring the coolness and sweetness of the fruit. Is this what normal life was like? Eventually, she found the quietness unsettling. She used a white noise app on her omnitool to dial up “Ocean sounds.” She looked at Miranda’s message for what must have been the millionth time.

She got up to walk to the bedroom, peeled off her clothes, and got into the bed. She remembered her last time there. She felt her excitement building at the thought of seeing Miranda. God, what is happening to me? she thought. Am I an idiot? It’s just a war fling, like Prangley and Rodriguez. No one wanted to be alone now. She sighed. Whatever this was, she was ready for at least one more day and night of it. She fell asleep touching herself, listening to the ocean, and thinking of Miranda moaning out her name.

***** 

Jack was awoken by a noise in the room. A female quarian was standing in the doorway. Jack’s biotics began to crackle. The quarian quickly pulled off her mask: Jack, it’s me!

“Miranda, what the hell?”

“I can’t be too careful right now.”

Jack rested her head back on the pillow. “Okay. You can tell me all about it. . . . Or not. Whatever works for you. Have you eaten? There’s actually fruit in the fridge.” Jack couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice or how fast it was making her talk.

“I didn’t come here to eat, Jack,” Miranda said, winking at her. God, that wink made Jack melt a little. Miranda was undressing and approaching the bed. “Is there room in there for me?”

“You know there is.” Jack threw the covers off the side of the bed next to her.  “C’mon.”

Miranda got under the covers and wrapped her arms around Jack. Jack grasped onto her. Their legs quickly intertwined. They were both making sounds that mixed laughing and releasing a long-held breath.

Jack spoke first. “I was afraid you wouldn’t make it.”

“I told you I would do whatever I could to get here.” Miranda was touching Jack’s face, turning it one way, then the other with her hand holding onto the chin. “I’m so glad to see you.” She kissed her gently on the lips.

When the kiss ended, Jack said, “I’m glad to see you too. Wasn’t sure I’d get to again.”

Miranda’s hands were running along Jack’s ribs and waist and hips. “You’re so thin! You could hardly afford to lose any weight, but I think you have.”

“Not a lot to eat at the front lines. No time to eat it.”

Miranda pursed her lips and squinted her eyes into an expression of concern. But before she could say anything further, Jack said, “Miranda, can we save the catching up on the war till later, please?” She leaned in to kiss again.

Miranda just made a Mmmm-hmmm sound as their lips came together. Their kisses were open-mouthed and soft. Jack felt tension and fear leaving her body as she relaxed in Miranda’s arms. In their place, excitement began to build.

As they stopped kissing, Jack was moving so she could pull Miranda on top of her. “Miranda, please . . .” but she couldn’t say anymore. She wanted her so much, she couldn’t let herself ask it, afraid she might sound even more desperate than she already did. She touched Miranda’s face, but stayed silent.

Miranda was working to keep herself from shaking. She had imagined this so many times over the last few weeks—and even before that. She could feel how different this moment was from when they had been together last. Almost a return to those first nights on the Normandy, when she’d held Jack as she slept. Maybe their last night together had won her back some of the trust she had lost when she left the Normandy. Jack was desperate to trust someone—maybe her specifically, maybe not. Did she even have an idea of how much Miranda cared about her? Miranda shifted her body so her face was even with Jack’s breasts.

“So, where did we leave off? I think . . . I was touching this breast.” She began to circle the areola of Jack’s left breast with her middle finger. She began to caress it, covering it with her hand then gently squeezing it. She felt Jack arch her back to press her chest into her hand, but she didn’t make a sound. Miranda was studying the tattoos, the scars, and Jack’s hardening nipples. She turned to face her, but Jack’s eyes were closed. She licked her finger, then gently slid the wetness on the tip of Jack’s nipple. She whispered, “Can I kiss you here?”

Jack replied quietly, “You can kiss me anywhere.” Miranda felt an electric shock in her chest. She took Jack’s breast in her mouth, kissing it, sucking it, licking the nipple. When Jack finally made a sound—a gasp and a moan together—Miranda’s heart began to race. Jack lifted her body into Miranda. Miranda wrapped her right arm around her waist, holding her tight, all the while still kissing her. She moved from one breast to the other, then kissed Jack’s ribs and belly. Finally she lifted her head just slightly to say, “You are so soft.” She began to kiss her belly again. Jack placed her hand on Miranda’s cheek, and just said “You.”

It took all she had just to get that out. For three weeks, Jack had imagined this, hoping she would survive to experience it. Now, she felt emotionally overwhelmed. The way Miranda kissed her was gentle but insistent, full of both care and desire. But Jack almost didn’t know how to respond. She wanted to say, “Miranda, I love the way you touch me.” But she couldn’t. It was easier to touch someone than to be touched. Sometimes it seemed easier to just get fucked than deal with all these feelings. Still, she didn’t want it to end.

Miranda continued to move and kiss her way down Jack’s body. She loved feeling Jack’s thighs against her sides. She wanted to feel Jack’s clitoris beneath her tongue, in her mouth. She wanted to give Jack an orgasm she’d never forget. But Jack was so quiet. She kissed Jack’s thigh, then looked up her body, but Jack still wasn’t looking at her. She asked “Is this included in ‘anywhere’?” as she gently traced a finger through the wetness coating Jack’s clitoris.

Jack let out the loudest moan yet, “Yes! Miranda, yes.” Miranda couldn’t see the expression of concentration and extreme desire on Jack’s face, her eyelids first clenched tight, then her eyes wide open, facing the headboard. She exhaled another “Please.” Miranda’s chest tightened in response. She wanted Jack so much, and now she was feeling how much Jack wanted her back.

Miranda gently licked the length of Jack’s swollen clit. As she neared the top, Jack bucked beneath her. Miranda began the concentrate on this spot, circling, then pressing the full warm width of her tongue against it. She inhaled Jack’s scent. As long as she had imagined this moment, it still felt surreal. She placed her right hand on Jack’s belly, as she continued to kiss her, gently sucking the hard bud into her mouth. Jack gripped the hand and Miranda gripped back.

Jack began to make a series of sounds—groans followed by whimpers and high-pitched gasps—accompanied by her thrusting herself into Miranda’s mouth. Finally, she gasped out, “Miranda, I need you inside me.” Miranda felt another electric shock pass from between her breasts to between her legs.

“Oh God, Jack.” Miranda pushed herself up so she was on her hands and knees, and Jack bent her knees and let her legs fall open wider. Miranda reached down to continue stroking her and Jack just gasped even louder, “Miranda! Please . . . “ She was finally looking right into Miranda’s eyes. desire mixing with desperation and other less defined emotions. Miranda slid her middle finger down through the wetness on Jack’s clit to her entrance and then gently pushed it inside her. The heat inside Jack made her groan. She slowly slid her finger in and out. Jack grasped her head and said, “Miranda, more.”

Miranda slipped her finger out and slid two fingers back inside. “You are so wet and so hot,” she whispered. She began to gently thrust with her fingers, and looked away as she concentrated on controlling her own excitement to stay focused on Jack. When she turned back again, she realized Jack was crying.

She stopped moving and said, “Jack?” She felt her stomach dropping and her breath leaving her.

“Do not fucking stop!”

“Jack . . . “

“Miranda, please! I just need you.”

Whatever Miranda had felt before, she felt overwhelmed now, but she returned to gently moving her right hand while holding Jack with her left. She kissed her cheek and her forehead, gradually increasing the speed and pressure as Jack pushed into her. Then she shifted down so her chest was pressed against Jack’s belly and her head was resting against Jack’s chest. She listened to her racing heart. She let her thumb caress Jack’s clit, and pushed deeper inside her. She felt Jack clench around her fingers. She continued to thrust more insistently.

Then Jack’s whole body tensed as she repeated the word “Please” over and over, each time getting louder. Miranda’s body tensed in response as she struggled to keep the same rhythm in her excitement. Then suddenly Jack was yelling out Miranda’s name. As Miranda lay on top of her in the quiet that followed that moment, she couldn’t stop herself from saying “Jack, I love you.”

Jack immediately replied, “You don’t have to say that.”

“No, I do. Jack, I do love you.”

“You only feel that way because we just had really hot sex.”

“It’s not just that, I promise you.”

“Miranda, you don’t even really know me.” Jack rolled to face away from Miranda, but their bodies still touched.

Miranda wasn’t sure how to react. She knew saying she loved Jack might have overwhelmed the younger woman.  She knew that Jack’s natural inclination might be to push anyone away if they got too close—and that meant she was getting close. She couldn’t deny her feelings, especially after just reaffirming them. Jack had a good bullshit meter. She must know she wasn’t lying. She was just pushing to see if Miranda would pull away from her if challenged. Miranda decided to continue talking: “I know you’re strong, in every way. Skilled and courageous in a fight. I know you’re good and giving, even after everything you’ve seen and experienced. You're a caring teacher. I know you held me all night long the last time we were together.” She put her hand on Jack’s back, and Jack didn’t move away. 

But Jack wasn’t quite ready to back down from her combative stance. “Even if that’s all true, what do I know about you?”

This was more of challenge. For a second, Miranda felt pushed toward anger and doubt. But she was committed to reaching Jack where she was, to understanding this as a test from a person who had been hurt many times before. This moment was probably the most important of this very young relationship, whichever direction it might take in the future. More important than the sex they’d been having.

Miranda continued, “Well, I think that’s for you to answer, but I hope you know I’m strong too. That I work hard. That I’m intelligent. But more important than any of that, that even though it might take me a long time, I can admit it when I’m wrong. . . . And I have trusted you with some of the biggest secrets in my life. I hope that means something to you. It doesn’t mean you have to love me back, but I hope you know you can trust me back.” She was quiet for a moment, then she added, “I thought we had put the past behind us.”

Jack lay there, still facing away, listening and thinking. Thinking especially, “Why am I doing this? Why can’t I just accept that she might care about me, even if it won’t last forever? She came here to be with me. She’s trying to talk me down. She just wants to hold me. We did just have really hot sex. Jack, why do you have to make everything so fucking hard for yourself?” Only in the back of her mind did she hear what Miranda was saying, but in her heart she heard the way she said it. She turned around to face her in the quiet that followed her last statement.

“Miranda, I’m sorry.” She moved to embrace her and Miranda pulled her close, flooded by feelings of relief and happiness. As Jack squeezed Miranda tight, she continued, “Fuck, I’m no good at this soft stuff! I’m really sorry.” Jack loosened her hold to move back to being face to face. “I don’t mean to ruin what just happened.”

“You’re not, I promise. Nothing could ever ruin that. Trust me on that, if nothing else. I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you by saying . . . that. I just . . . Oh God, I’m about to say it again.” Miranda let out a sound of exasperation at herself. “Jack, I have strong feelings for you.” Miranda kissed her. “And you’re beautiful. And I love being close to you. And yes, that was very hot sex.” Miranda rolled onto her back, keeping one arm around Jack and beginning to feel truly relaxed for the first time in weeks.

“It was. Very hot. Miranda . . .” Jack stopped talking and moved to rest her head on Miranda’s breast, so she didn’t have to face her. “Miranda, I do trust you. I trust the way you touch me.”

Miranda wrapped her arm around Jack’s shoulder and hugged her again. In her mind, she thought, “I think I’ve passed this test.” Out loud she said, “That means so much to me, truly.”

As Jack lay there in the quiet, she told herself not to think about the inevitable end of all of this. Hell, they might all be dead in a few weeks—why worry about a relationship possibly ending in times like these? Maybe it was just a reflection how much Miranda was starting to mean to her.

Suddenly Miranda said, “Do you like the beach?”

“What?”

“You were listening to the ocean when I came in.”

“Oh. Don't know—I’ve never been. I guess I like how it sounds.”

“When all this is over, we’ll have to go to the beach. I think Kaidan’s family has a house in Vancouver. Maybe he’d have some idea about places to stay. Or somewhere else. Wherever you’d like.”

Hearing Miranda make plans about when the war was over meant more to Jack than hearing her say “I love you.” Still Jack wasn’t sure how to act.

“I don’t know how long it’ll take to sort out all the kids after. Some of their parents have died. Maybe we’ll all be dead . . .”

“Jack, please just say you’ll go to the beach with me.” Miranda was cupping Jack’s face in her hand.

“Okay, okay. You are now committed to taking me to the beach. You better not let me down.”

“I won’t. I’m already looking forward to it.” Miranda sounded happier than Jack had ever heard her.

“Will you wear a bikini?”

“For you, absolutely. Will you get up to watch the sunrise with me?”

Jack began to trace the curve of Miranda’s breast with her finger. “I think we are going to be too tired for that.”

“Fine. Jack, will you STAY up to watch the sunrise with me?”

Jack pushed herself up to lean on her elbow and kissed Miranda. “I will,” she said. She stayed there for a moment, pressed against Miranda, looking down at her, touching her lips, then her cheek. “You know, I really do trust you. What are you going to do now?”

Miranda looked into Jack’s deep brown eyes and said with calm certainty, “Earn it.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Miranda's relationship continues to evolve as the Reaper War comes to a close.

Like the ocean of atoms in one drop of water, even the briefest of moments can contain years of memories. As Jack struggled to maintain a biotic shield over herself and the unconscious figure of Prangley, hundreds of images flashed through her mind. Once again, she watched Prangley rushing heedlessly toward a position being overrun by husks and Marauders. He never saw the blast that knocked him out, focused only on his friends in danger.

Jack had rushed to him and thrown up the shield. Now, here she was, minutes passing, unsure if this had been the right move. Prangley’s running had focused the attention of the other students, and they were retaking control of this area, reestablishing barriers for the soldiers they accompanied. They acted with renewed vigor, fighting with the rage that Jack had taught them to tap into. Rodriguez led the charge with something close to abandon.

Jack crouched and held the shield, wondering if this was the best use of her abilities. Would others die while she protected this one? But what would losing Prangley do to the others? Without exception, they saw him as the strongest of their group, their leader. The Reaper forces continued to enter the field in wave after wave. Jack hadn’t lost one student in the war, and she didn’t want to start now. But maybe she had no choice.

Her mind and body were straining. The physical pain and the chaos around them caused memories of Jack’s childhood to flash through her mind. Fighting, killing, and torture. Also strength, survival, and escape. But escape . . . to more fighting and killing. Was this to be the end? On one hand, it would be fitting. On the other, it seemed too cruel and unfair. Jack wished there was someone she could call on for help, but she had given up on that a thousand prayers ago. There was only her. And Prangley.

She was suddenly imagining Miranda fighting to save her sister. She thought of that first night in Miranda’s cabin, and heard her own voice say, “I might have done the same fucking thing, if I ever had anyone to take care of.” She had found people to take care of and care about—these kids. Shepard. And Miranda. Maybe she could take care of her, in some way. But that would probably never happen now. Jack thought of that last night with Miranda. She remembered times training her students, pushing them hard but making them laugh. She hadn’t laughed a lot in her life. Those moments stood out as bright spots in a timeline of darkness passing in front of her mind’s eye.

Jack felt her last reserves of energy failing. She looked through the wavering biotic shield. Every student was in the midst of combat. No one could help her, and she could help no one. She yelled at Prangley, “Damn it, Prangley. Wake up and save your young fucking life!” But Prangley didn’t rouse.

Suddenly, a red light flashed across the battlefield, unlike anything Jack had seen before. The Reaper forces began to fall where they stood. Jack’s students looked to her in confusion. Jack finally lost consciousness.

*****

Miranda had experienced a rollercoaster of emotions when she and her crew were asked to move to support a position being overrun by Reaper forces because “the Grissom Academy students are being overwhelmed.” Miranda knew she would be close to Jack, but she also knew the situation was deteriorating. Would they even see each other, before the end? Maybe Jack was already hurt—or worse.

Miranda’s group was still fighting to get to the position when the Reaper forces fell. No one was sure if this was final victory or just a temporary reprieve. Miranda ordered those with her to assist with moving the wounded to safer areas. She asked them to report in with updates and their positions every couple hours, but to contact her immediately if they found anyone from the Grissom group.

When the wounded had been evacuated, they were left to clear the dead. Miranda approached each smaller body with trepidation. When she would roll a body over or check dog tags and confirm that it wasn’t Jack, she would be filled with equal measures of relief and guilt. Each person here was somebody’s Jack, somebody’s Oriana. They all worked in silence, recording names and numbers and placing bodies in trucks without even anything to cover them.

At some point, one of Miranda’s crew reported to her that some Grissom students were together at a field hospital set up a bit to the north. If they were there, some of them were alive, at least for now. Miranda wanted to rush there, to find Jack, to be sure. But she felt duty-bound to continue with the grim task until every last available truck had been loaded. Finally, they had done what they could with the resources they had. She climbed on the tailgate of a truck moving to the north. The living left the field of battle with the dead. They had lived when others had fallen, and there was no real reason why any one of them was in one group and not the other. Each was filled with that same mix of relief and guilt Miranda had felt before; they would be for a long time to come.

The truck stopped at the field hospital for them, then continued on to a large makeshift morgue. After anguished moments searching the camp, Miranda found Jack essentially passed out on the ground next to a cot that held Prangley’s sleeping form. Miranda immediately sat down beside her. She put one hand on Jack’s head, and held her own head in the other. Quietly, she cried.

*****

Two young voices began to interject themselves into Jack’s dream state.

“I was so scared.”

“We were all scared.”

“I wasn’t scared of dying. I was scared of losing you.”

“Babe, that’s why we’re all scared of dying. Losing each other.” Jack heard a soft, thoughtful sound in response.

“It’s all over now.”

“Maybe . . .”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

As Jack fought to truly wake up, she realized she was listening to Prangley and Rodriguez. The ground was hard and cold. Her body felt like it had been run over by a tank. But she was filled with happiness.  She felt bad overhearing such a private moment. She began to make exaggerated groans as if she were just coming to. “Ugh!” She rolled to her side to face away from them as she sat up.

“Ma’am! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

When she turned to face them, Prangley was still lying on the cot. Rodriguez was sitting on the ground on the other side of it.

“Good to see you awake, Prangley. I’m not sure if you’re brave or stupid, but you’re undisciplined as hell.”

“They didn’t know they were being flanked!”

Jack waved her hand. “Prangley, I don’t care. But now if Sanders ever asks, I reprimanded you. You were trying to save your friends. Discipline is . . .overrated.”

“Thanks for saving me.”

“That’s my job. How you holding up, Rodriguez?”

“I’m fine, ma’am.”

Jack looked at their young, battle worn faces. She wished she could say, “I love you guys. I’m so happy you’re alive. I don’t think I could go on if you hadn’t made it.” But instead she said, “I’ve gotta find a place to pee. Any idea which way I should head?” She struggled to get to her feet.

Rodriguez sprang up. “I can help you.”

“Don’t need help, Rodriguez,” Jack said as she attempted to push herself up a second time using the edge of the cot. She sat back down for a second.

Prangley said, “Maybe you should wait for your friend. She said she’d be right back . . .”

“My friend?”

“Operative Lawson? She has, uh, black hair and blue eyes. She said she was on the Normandy with you and Commander Shepard.”

“Miranda is here?” Jack hid her excitement behind disbelief.

“She went to go speak with some officers, but she said she’d be right back.”

Now, Jack found the strength to stand. She scanned the area and, then, in the distance, she saw Miranda returning. Jack felt her heart begin to race. She felt like she could cry. God, she was so beautiful. The way her hips moved when she walked. Her insanely perfect posture. But Jack was realizing she didn’t just want her body anymore.

At that moment, Miranda noticed Jack staring at her. Noticed that Jack was awake and standing and staring at her. A huge smile formed on her lips and her eyes began to sparkle. It felt like it took forever to reach her. Miranda resisted the urge to run, to make a scene. Finally, Jack was in her arms.

“Miranda!”

“Jack.” Miranda held on as she kept talking. “Glad to see you off the ground.” She felt Jack’s heart racing like her own. Finally, Miranda took a small step back, but kept her hands under Jack’s arms. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve really got to pee.”

Miranda laughed. “Jack, you’re still you! That’s a relief. Come on, I’ll take you. I don’t think you’re ready to wander off by yourself quite yet.”

This whole time, Jack was in amazement. For a moment, she wondered if she were already dead, or dying. It was all too perfect. Prangley alive, Miranda here with her.

Miranda started to guide her away, her arm around Jack’s waist helping to hold her up.

“I think I can walk.”

“Pretend you can’t so I can keep my arm around you.”

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Jack turned to look at her, then looked back at her feet to watch her step. They picked their way through cots and gurneys covered with the wounded and exhausted. The sun was shining. Jack wasn’t sure all of this was real. She thought of holding the shield over Prangley. She felt Miranda’s hand holding on to her. She remembered the conversation she had overheard. She found herself saying, “Miranda . . . I love you.”

Miranda squeezed her gently and said, “I know. But it is nice to hear you say it. I love you too. If you don’t mind me saying it.” Miranda smiled at her.

Jack stopped: “Is your sister okay? I’m sorry--I should’ve asked before.”

“She’s safe. Here on Earth.”

“Good.”

They made it to the latrine, then went back to Prangley and Rodriguez. They talked about their experiences over the last few weeks, and wondered what the future would hold. They worried about the fate of those they cared about. Evening began to overspread the sky. Jack’s energy began to flag. Miranda said, “Jack, come sleep on the ship. It’s close.”

Jack objected, saying, “I’ve got to stay with my kids.” But Prangley and Rodriguez and the others who were there all said she should go. She turned to Miranda and said, "How close is close?"

"We can walk there in less than 15 minutes."

Jack was silently considering this when Prangley said, “I feel guilty you’ve been sleeping on the ground. Please go get some real sleep.” That finally pushed her over. “Okay. You promise to call me if anything happens. I'll be back in 8 hours—or less.”

As they walked away, she said to Miranda, “I think Prangley and Rodriguez just want some time alone.”

“Well, they’re hardly alone. But of course they all want to be without adults--they’re young. War doesn't change everything.”

*****

Miranda’s cabin was small and dim.

“Here it is. I know—not like back on the Normandy.”

“Who cares? We’re together.” Miranda’s ears pricked up at this. She thought back to Jack’s earlier “I love you.” Jack was letting down her defenses. It made Miranda happy.

The bed was small too, but Miranda sat down and said with a smile, “I think we’ll fit if we cuddle like we used to. You’re so exhausted I think you’ll be out as soon as you’re horizontal.”

Jack gave Miranda a quick once-over. “I’m tired, not dead.”

“Uh-uh, Jack.” Miranda laid her head on her pillow and patted the bed. “Sleep, not sex.”

Jack lay down in front of her, her back to Miranda, then reached back for Miranda’s hand. She kissed it, then slipped it into the waistband of her pants. “Maybe a little sex?” There was second of silence, which Jack took as encouragement. “Miranda, please?”

“I’m not sure what ‘a little sex’ is exactly. I guess we can try to figure it out together. You’re going to have to be quiet. The walls are quite thin.”

“I don’t want to know how you know that.”

“I know that because I hear everything that goes on out there when I’m trying to sleep. I hope you’re not suggesting I’ve been with anyone else in here.”

“I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about that. Miranda, it’s not even my business. I just don’t want to think about it.”

“Jack, believe me, if you knew how I felt you wouldn’t think that. I don’t want anyone else.”

Jack thought, “Why do I keep almost blowing this?” She said, “Me either.” She felt Miranda let out a breath she had been holding.

Miranda used the hand on Jack’s belly to pull her against her. “Alright, I’m glad that’s settled.” She wanted to say, “You don’t make it easy, Jack.” But there was no need to stir things back up. She unbuttoned Jack’s pants. “I only want you.” She slowly slid the zipper down. Jack pressed her ass more firmly against Miranda.

“You sure you’re not too tired?” Miranda teased.

“Don’t fuck with me, cheerleader.” It had been so long since Miranda had heard that. She found that now she loved hearing it.

“Just checking.” She kissed Jack’s cheek and slowly moved her hand down until her fingers were sliding over Jack’s clit. Jack let out a low groan.

“Remember—quiet,” she whispered. Jack groaned again.

Miranda’s fingers were touching Jack gently and slowly, but she was slowly increasing the pressure and the speed. She wrapped her left arm around the younger woman to hold her close, her hand resting on Jack’s right breast.

“Miranda, talk to me,” Jack said quietly.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything. I just want to hear your voice.”

“Hmmm. I hope you’re starting to believe I care about you. But maybe you don’t know how much I love your body. Your breasts.” She squeezed the breast beneath her hand. “Your ass.” Miranda thrusted against Jack’s ass to emphasize her appreciation. “Your muscles. Your eyes. God, your lips. Jack, you’re beautiful.”

The whole time she spoke, her fingers were caressing insistently and Jack’s thighs began to squeeze around them. It didn’t give Miranda much room to move, but she knew Jack was enjoying this.

“You’re so strong, but you’re soft too. It’s very hot actually.”

“Yeah?” Jack was quiet, concentrating.

“Very. . . . Jack, I have been thinking about touching you every time I’ve been in this bed. Just you.” Miranda let out a long breath.

Jack moaned, staying as quiet as she could. She began to gasp and hold her breath. Her thoughts were centered on how much Miranda seemed to want her—and the electric current running from the center of her brain through her heart to the core of her throbbing clit. Her whole body tensed and she felt Miranda’s do the same. She felt her release becoming inevitable beneath Miranda’s strong, beautiful fingers. She let herself fall into it. A cry escaped her lips and merged with one from Miranda.

They lay there gasping for air, Miranda’s hands on Jack’s belly and breasts holding her with all her might. Slowly they both relaxed. Jack turned in Miranda’s arms. Her eyes revealed a naked vulnerability as she said, “Promise me you are not going to fuck me over.”

“Really?” Miranda thought. She reflected back on the last time they had been together. Pillow talk with Jack was more like blood sport. But . . . the look in Jack’s eyes was heartbreaking, not angering or exasperating. That look brought out every instinct to be gentle, to be caring. Miranda held Jack’s shoulders in her hands and looked right in her eyes and swore, “I promise. Jack, I promise you. I’m not using you. I really, honestly, am in love with you. I am.” Hearing the words come out of her own mouth, Miranda felt a moment of disbelief. But she knew it was true.

Jack’s heart was pounding even harder than before. She could tell Miranda meant what she was saying. She looked down. She blew out a breath. She swallowed. Finally she said, “I know. I just don’t know how to deal with it. You . . . you could hurt me a lot.”

Miranda pulled Jack into her arms. “You’re not the only one who feels that way.”

Jack let this sink in. She said with conviction, “Miranda, I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“And Jack, I wouldn’t hurt you. But we don’t know how to believe it yet. But I think it will happen in time. I hope we’ll give ourselves a chance to find out.” Miranda kissed her softly, and Jack pushed her body as close as she could get to her. After the kiss, Jack pressed her forehead against Miranda’s and said “I don’t know what to say except I love you.”

“Jack, that’s all you have to say. And you don’t even have to say that. Please, just keep spending time with me.”

They lay in each other's arms in silence. After a while, Miranda felt Jack’s weight pressing into her. She rolled to face the ceiling and rubbed small circles on Jack's lower back and soon she was deep in sleep. But Miranda was awake. It was slowly dawning on her that maybe she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Jack, but even her analytical mind couldn’t calculate what that might look like. It was exciting to the point of terrifying. She reassured herself by holding onto to Jack and telling herself if she could handle Cerberus, Collectors, and Reapers, she could handle this.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Miranda's experiences in the immediate aftermath of the Reaper War. 
> 
> Picks up immediately after the events of the last chapter.

Miranda wanted to let Jack rest a few minutes more. She had barely moved an inch since falling asleep in Miranda’s arms. She didn’t even stir when Miranda got out of bed to answer a call on her omnitool. Jack looked so young; the weight of experience that accompanied her every waking moment lifted a little as she slept. But now, even this brief respite of peace had to be over.

Miranda touched Jack’s cheek. “Jack. Jack, I’m sorry. It’s still really early, but you’ve got to wake up.” Miranda was smiling warmly, but she couldn’t hide the sadness in her eyes. “We’ve got to talk about some things.” Miranda gently swept the hair that was falling over Jack’s face and tucked it behind her ear.

“What time is it?”

“A bit before 4 in the morning. Admiral Hackett’s people have contacted me with some information and some orders.” She sighed. “I’m not even sure where to begin.”

Jack was still trying to wake up. “Okay,” she said hesitantly, nervousness building in her chest. Were the Reapers somehow reviving? Why did she ever agree to leave her kids? “Just tell me.”

“Shepard has been found in London . . .”

Jack’s heart and throat clenched tight. “Found alive?”

“Yes, she’s alive, for now. But she’s gravely wounded, unconscious since she was rescued. They are still trying to assess her condition fully. She was found near Anderson’s body. And the Illusive Man’s.”

“So the Illusive Man is dead and Shepard is alive. This is all good, right?”

“Yes—in a narrow sense, yes. But it’s unclear if Shepard will pull through. And the Illusive Man left plans to be put in motion to be sure Cerberus carried on in the event of his death. That would be bad enough in itself, but it looks like there is a power struggle developing between different factions of what is left of Cerberus here on Earth. They’re disorganized but there are a lot of dangerous resources that could fall into the hands of people with dangerous ideas. Hackett’s group is analyzing a lot of intercepted chatter. They’ve asked me to join that effort and assist with some countermeasures.”

“So what does all that mean, exactly?”

Miranda looked away. “Well, for one thing it means that I have to leave. For a few days at least—perhaps more.”

“Oh.” Jack sighed, but she restrained herself from expressing any of the disappointment that surged through her.

Miranda remained facing away from Jack. “Hackett also said that they have not been able to re-establish communication with the Normandy. That doesn’t mean they are . . . gone . . . necessarily. But it is concerning. Liara, Garrus, Kaidin, Joker, Dr. Chakwas – they were all aboard, along with many others from the Collector mission. Even if Shepard survives, we may have to tell her that they did not.”

Jack closed her eyes and put her hand in her hair on top of her head. She let out a long “Fuck.”

“I’ve already forwarded every bit of information I had on the Lazarus Project. Any of Shepard’s medical records I had access to. I wish I could go to see her, maybe help in some way, but I must help deal with Cerberus. Your students are your top priority, of course. But if there is any way you can go see her, you should. There’s research on patients who have recovered from comas who remember what was said to them while in that state. It might help. I don’t know. But I won’t give up on Shepard until there is absolutely no hope.”

Jack tried to absorb all of this. “Yeah, I won’t either. Shepard makes her own hope. I’ll get there if I can, but the kids come first. Shepard would understand that.”

“Yes, she would.” Miranda thought of how proud—and unsurprised—Shepard would be to see Jack so filled with a sense of responsibility.

Jack moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “In fact, I think I need to get back to them now. I probably shouldn’t have come here.” Before Miranda could object, she said, “You know what I mean. I want to be with you, but I have to be with them until all this shit is sorted out.”

“I understand. You’re right, of course. I wanted you to myself for a little while. I was being selfish. But this isn’t a time for selfishness.”

“Miranda, I wanted it too. I just . . . belong with them right now.”

Miranda wanted to say, “You belong with me.” But she said, “Yes, you do.”

Jack stood up. “Miranda . . . .” She exhaled and felt a bit like she might cry. She swallowed and tried again, “Miranda . . .” Suddenly she laughed a loud, sad laugh. “I fucking love saying your name. Who would’ve guessed that back on the Normandy?” She looked at the floor for a moment. “Will you just hug me, please?”

Miranda immediately complied with her request, wrapping her in a soft embrace, one arm around her waist while the other hand cradled her head. Miranda kissed her on the cheek and said, “I’m going to be back soon, and we’ll figure out what we’re doing here.”

“Figure it out? Cheerleader, you’re gonna marry me and stay with me forever and stop bolting like a fucking cadet every time we do it.”

Hearing Jack say the words “marry me” flooded Miranda with emotions—wistful hope colored by pragmatic disbelief. She knew Jack was trying to lighten the mood because she was leaving, but she wanted to believe that Jack had really thought about the idea, if only for a second. She wanted to jump into the future—and wake up with Jack and spend most of the day in bed, in their room, in their place. Cuddling, talking, laughing, feeling a cool, spring breeze through an open window. Shepard recovered, happy with Liara. Oriana bringing over some new love interest for them to grill. No Cerberus. No war.

She tried, unsuccessfully, to match Jack’s tone. “You should’ve told me you already had a plan.” Jack was stunned to see a single tear slip from the corner of Miranda’s right eye. Miranda quickly looked down. Their hands bumped as they both reached to brush it away.

Seeing Miranda cry felt like a blow to the gut. That was the last thing Jack wanted to cause. There was a mix of tenderness and uncertainty in her voice when she said, “Well, I just came up with it now. But it’s good, right?”

“It’s good. Maybe the best plan I’ve ever heard. Of course, there might be some details to iron out.”

Jack mock groaned. “Details? Thank God you’re good at that shit.” She kissed Miranda softly on the lips.

Still holding each other, they were quiet for a few moments. Finally, Jack said, “Please message me whenever you can and get back safe, okay? Then we’ll put aside some time to work on your commitment issues.”

“Well, I’m hopeful I can resolve them with your help.” Miranda winked and grabbed Jack’s ass. “You message me too. About everything. Your kids. Shepard. The weather. Anything. I just want to hear from you. I’ll miss you.” She gave Jack’s butt one more squeeze and said as cheerfully as she could manage. “Now, get out of here.”

Jack leaned over to kiss her cheek and said, “I’ll miss you too.” And in a second she was out the door.

***** 

The first thing was the smell. The worst thing was the lighting and the needles and the tubes and the metal tables and the straps and—fucking everything. Hospitals reminded Jack of her childhood almost as much as fighting. At least when she was fighting, she had some control. As she walked through the halls, she thought she’d almost rather face a banshee than to be in this place. Almost.

As she made her way to Shepard’s room, she steeled herself for what she might see there. When she arrived at the door, she saw that Shepard was not alone. An asari sat next to her, in a chair pushed against the bed. Her hand rested on Shepard’s arm. A profound silence seemed to envelop the two of them. After looking at the scene for a few quiet moments, Jack moved to leave them alone and come back a bit later. But in that second, Samara turned to face her, a hint of warmth in her serious eyes.

She stood up and faced Jack. “Jack.” She held out her hands.

Jack approached her, a little unsure of how to deal with the hands. She extended one of her own, but then instead of shaking hands, she was suddenly standing holding Samara’s hand. It was amazingly soft. “Samara. I knew you’d survive.”

Samara made a thoughtful sound, but then said, “I was sure YOU would, Jack. But I did not expect to get to see you here. It is a welcome surprise.”

“Yeah, definitely.” Samara could see Jack’s growing discomfort at their continued contact, and she opened her hand to release Jack.

“How is she?” Jack took in the sight of Shepard fully for the first time. She was burned over much of her body, while bandages covered other wounds here and there. Tubes and leads entered and exited at a disturbing number of points. She appeared to be in a deep sleep, but her face showed tension.

“She is fighting to return to us,” Samara began, but she paused. For the briefest second, Jack thought she saw a flash of embarrassment cross her beautiful face. “Fighting to return to Liara. And to all of her friends.”

“Were you, uh, reading her mind?”

“It was not exactly that. But I can see she is expending a great effort to process what she has seen and experienced. I am also sure she is here, as we know her, somewhere deep in her mind. She is working to resurface and continue living her life. To have the chance to live a life more peaceful than the one she has known.”

“Yeah, that would be nice. For all of us.”

“Yes.”

“Do you think she can hear us?”

“I believe she can.”

“I might talk to her for a few minutes.” Jack moved closer to the bed.

“I shall leave you alone with her.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No, it will be good for me to have a short break.” Jack wondered exactly how long Samara had kept her vigil.

Jack sat down and began to talk. “Well, Shepard, I’m not going to lie to you. You look like shit. You must be exhausted, because I’m tired and I’m nowhere near as wrecked as you. But you’ve come back from death, so I think you got this.”

“I would’ve come sooner, but I’m looking after my students still. They all made it. A couple close calls, but we made it. Whenever I wasn’t sure how to deal with them, I’d just do what I thought you would do. Figured I couldn’t screw up too bad that way.”

Jack sighed, then was quiet for a while. She wanted Shepard to move, to talk, to groan, to do something. She looked at Shepard’s arm and thought of Samara holding it. She reached out and touched it lightly with three fingers. She stayed like that, feeling some connection. Here was one of the first people to ever believe in her and push her to be better, to change. Maybe one of the best people she would ever know.

“Fuck, Shepard. I’m sorry you’re hurt so bad. If you died now, it would be so fucking stupid. Please don’t.” Jack felt emotions filling her head and chest with painful pressure. She leaned back in the chair. Shepard didn’t need someone crying over her. She needed encouragement.

“Look, we still need you to keep the people on top from fucking everything up. And you’re the biggest badass I ever met, so I’m expecting you to be awake the next time I come back. Samara’s watching over you, so you’re not alone. I will be back, and maybe I can bring Miranda. It’s kind of a long story. We’re still . . . doing whatever the hell we’re doing.” Jack felt herself begin to blush, which was so absurd in the moment. “I’ll wait for Samara to get back, but you should go back to resting.” She sat and looked out the window for a while. Every now and again, she’d glance back at Shepard to see if she saw a change, but Shepard remained still except the rise and fall of her chest.

When Samara came back, Jack stood to go. “Are you going to be here for a while?”

“I cannot get to my daughter or back to Thessia right now. I think this is where I am meant to be.”

“Well, I’ll be back when I can. Get in touch if something changes with Shepard, or if you need anything.” Jack squeezed Samara lightly on the upper arm as a gesture of good-bye.

Samara simply said, “I will.” As she went to sit back down, Jack saw the look she gave to Shepard. It reminded her of the way Miranda looked at her. Jack felt like she had invaded Samara’s privacy in seeing it, and she turned to walk out without saying anything further.

She started to type out a message to Miranda. She included everything but that look and walked back to camp in the dark.

*****

Jack sat on a cot next to Ensign Wilson, who couldn’t seem to stay seated for more than 5 seconds at a time. Every time a new truck rolled through the camp, she looked anxiously at the windows and then disappointedly at the ground. Between trucks, she looked at her hands and exhaled loudly.

“Wilson, I’m sure they’ll be here soon. You’re tiring me out getting up and down.”

“Sorry, ma’am.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re anxious to see them. To get away from here.” Jack said all her kids had made it out alive, but she knew they hadn’t all made it through unscathed.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Wilson was a gifted biotic, but she had not been ready for the things she had seen in the war. Not that any of them were, young or old. But Wilson was especially broken down—unable to sleep, unwilling to talk, nervous at every sound, haunted. She had the sense of duty to stay with her peers through the fighting, but when the Reapers fell, she had immediately requested permission to leave Alliance service. Sanders had granted her request and after a couple weeks, they had been able to get in touch with her parents.

Jack considered the young woman, the dark circles under her eyes, nails bitten and bloody.

Jack had struggled for what to say to Wilson as she saw her suffering over these weeks. Surprisingly, the end of the fighting had seemed to intensify her pain, rather than relieve it. “Too much time to think,” she told her friends. So far nothing Jack had said had seemed to help. She decided to make one more attempt as they sat there.

 “Wilson, remember you helped to defeat the Reapers, to save Earth. You’ll be telling your grandchildren about that someday. I mean, if you want to have kids. I know it was . . . horrible . . . many times, but whatever you did, whatever you saw, you were on the right side. Remember that.”

Wilson looked at her for second, then looked away. “Yes, ma’am.”

Just then a truck pulled up near them. Jack saw a woman that was like Wilson’s clone opening the passenger-side door. Suddenly, Wilson was running toward the truck.

The way she cried out “Mom” was a wail. Her mother wrapped her in her arms. Soon Wilson’s father was standing next to the two of them, the parents sharing a long look of concern as he put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

That night Jack tried to send Miranda a message explaining what it was like to watch the scene. To realize that as much as they were her kids, they were someone else’s children. At the end of the message she wrote, “Seeing the three of them, then thinking of you and your sister—it all just makes me wish I could feel what it’s like to have a family.” She hesitated before hitting send, but she knew she wanted Miranda to see that, to know that. She sent the message.

*****

Miranda sat in her dim cabin, reading and re-reading Jack’s message. She typed, erased, and retyped one response after another.

“I’d love to be your family.” Erase.

“We will be a family.” Erase.

“You will someday, I’m sure of it.” Erase.

“Jack, I know you will.” She sent the message.

TO BE CONTINUED


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranda returns to London and her relationship with Jack continues to grow.
> 
> Do you like lots of dialogue? This chapter's got lots of dialogue, plus new places to live and the return of fruit and sex.

The fourth week that Miranda was away, Sanders had shown up one morning, a bit worse for wear. Jack had hugged her more with sadness at the state she was in then for happiness at the reunion. Sanders told Jack that she had been on Earth, but not in London, when the Reapers fell. Although she had worked on the Crucible, she had also been working on other, more secret projects for Hackett. It had taken her awhile to return to London, and she was devastated by Anderson’s death.

Sanders threw herself into working with the Grissom kids and trying to formulate a plan for the future of the school. The first thing she had done was release Ensign Wilson. She said, “Wilson, you need to heal. You’ve earned a fresh start somewhere else.” But she couldn’t heed the same advice for herself. The Alliance was her home, and the school was all she had left. For Jack, having her back took some of the pressure off. She didn’t want to be in charge of anything in this life except herself. On the other hand, now there was someone else for her to worry about.

For the past few days, the Alliance had had Jack and the students using their biotics to assist in constructing temporary modular housing on the field where they had fought their last battle. It wasn’t the greatest use of their skills, but it kept them busy and gave them something useful to do. Now the housing was complete and Jack sat down for the first time on the plastic molded “bed” protruding from the wall. Not exactly comfortable, but she had slept in far worse places.

She checked her omnitool for messages, again. Although Miranda had stayed in touch, Jack still felt her doubts and insecurities growing each day they were apart. Maybe Miranda was having second thoughts about what was happening between them now that the Reapers were defeated. Why wouldn’t she? Life would go on, and it would change. She was certain to be pardoned for being in Cerberus, because she had done so much to help the Alliance fight them. With her skills and background, almost any professional avenue was open to Miranda. Anyone with eyes and a brain would want to be with her. Why would she want to be stuck with someone like Jack?

Jack shook her head, trying to banish the negative thoughts. She remembered Miranda saying she loved her. She flipped through messages back to the last few she had received. Suddenly, a new message appeared at the top of the list. The subject line said, Back Tomorrow. Jack’s heart sped up. The message read

I know I have been out of touch the last couple days, but I have been thinking about you. I will be back in the area some time tomorrow. There’s a lot for us to talk about. Nothing bad, Jack—I know how you think. I can’t wait to see you.

*****

The next day Jack woke up early.  As she went through the motions of the day, time seemed to drag. She wrote a weekly report for Sanders, though she didn’t know if she would even read it. She just did it to humor her. She met with a few of the younger students for dinner. Finally, she was in her room again, feeling angry and disappointed, when there was a tap at the door. She sprang up to answer it. And then Miranda was there in front of her, smiling. The quickness with which Jack embraced her seemed to send her a bit off balance, and she made a little sound of discomfort.

“Jack,” Miranda said, “such uncharacteristic enthusiasm.” She squeezed her back.

“Just get in here, cheerleader! Why didn’t you call me? How did you even know where to find me?” She kissed her in the doorway.

“Jack, I missed you.” Miranda held her face for a moment. “The . . . things . . . I needed to take care of today took longer than I expected. I wanted to surprise you so I headed for the encampment and asked around for you. I think you’ve made more of a name for yourself than you realize; everyone here knows the biotics instructor from Grissom Academy and where to find her.”

Jack realized she shouldn’t be surprised. She did always stand out from the rest of the rank and file. She pulled Miranda into the small room and made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “So, here’s the new estate. All of the comforts of a military home.” She pulled over a box and patted the top so Miranda would sit down.

Miranda sat, but said, “Jack, I still haven’t quite finished up with some final details, so I can’t stay too long. But if you’re free tomorrow and tomorrow night, then I hope we can spend the day—the whole day—together. And then I should be around and . . . and we’ll talk about the future tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay. I guess that doesn’t sound totally ominous.” Jack made a face and swallowed her disappointment. She told herself not to think of it as a pattern and not to worry. “I should be free for the afternoon and the night. I just have to check with Sanders. Everything is still sort of up in the air, but we try to get everyone together for PT and some biotics training in the morning. The Alliance throws a few small assignments our way. I mean, everything’s kind of chaotic still. What’s going on with you?”

“I think ‘everything’s kind of chaotic still’ is an accurate description. But Jack, I promise all will be revealed tomorrow. The ship is docked in the same place as before. Meet me there in the afternoon. And . . .” Miranda laughed. “I was going to say wear something comfortable, but you always wear something comfortable. It might make other people uncomfortable, but that’s a separate matter.” Miranda reached into the small bag slung over her shoulder. “I have a small gift for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Jack tried to peek.

“Don’t get too excited.” Miranda held out an orange. “You seemed very impressed that Liara had gotten fruit that night. I guess I wanted to impress you too. Of course, now it occurs to me that I don’t even know if you like fruit.”

Jack took the orange and considered Miranda with a quizzical look. “I do. And thanks, for this. Although I’d say the bigger gift is letting me know you actually care if I’m impressed by you. Which I am. Even without oranges.”

Miranda smiled. “I should get going . . .”

Jack reached out to grab her arm. “No way, Miranda. You made me eat fruit by myself last time. Not to mention you’ve been away for like a month. You’re gonna sit there till this is finished.”

So Jack sat down on the floor and Miranda sat back on the box to watch Jack eat the orange—and every second of the experience made her fall more in love. The way Jack peeled the orange, using her belt buckle to make a notch in the rind, but then working slowly with her small fingers to try to keep it whole in a spiral. The way she said Fuck! when it inevitably tore. The loving way she talked about the students and Sanders, not allowing Miranda to get a word in edgewise (not that she was trying). The way she offered each section to Miranda before she ate it, until finally on the fifth section she said, “Damn it, Miranda. Don’t you know how to share? Share this with me and stop making me feel guilty.” How big her smile got when Miranda took it.

Jack was so obviously . . . happy . . . that Miranda was there. She couldn’t stop gesturing and talking and smiling. Her personality had always been big, but it was seldom so bright. She was young and beautiful, and she couldn’t take her eyes off Miranda. As the moments went by, Miranda’s heart swelled, and she knew she had made the right decision.

*****

The next day the sun was shining, and Jack showed up at the door of Miranda’s ship mere seconds after noon. Miranda greeted her wearing jeans and a T-shirt, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Jack thought about commenting on how fucking hot she looked, but restrained herself. Miranda led her back to her cabin, where a stack of bags and boxes sat in the middle of the room.

“So, uh, Surprise! Jack, you’re helping me move.”

“Move? Move where?”

“You’ll see.”

Jack insisted on taking two bags and three boxes, leaving Miranda with one bag and two boxes. Miranda didn’t object, she just asked, “Don’t you want to know how far we have to go?”

“Nope. Doesn’t matter.” Jack could barely contain her excitement at the idea that Miranda was moving somewhere nearby. Of course, the way things usually went, Sanders would want to move Grissom Academy to the moon as soon as Miranda got settled. Jack pushed these thoughts back down and said, “Lead on.”

They started to walk and Jack said, “So are you going to tell me what’s going on?” But Miranda said there was too much to tell and she wanted to do it all at once. So Jack resumed telling various tales of things the students had said and done over the last few months in battle and on shore leave, and Miranda just listened and smiled. They passed a lot of military personnel at first, but slowly the other people on the streets were mostly civilians.

After about 45 minutes, both Jack and Miranda were pretty quiet, walking some smaller streets in a London neighborhood that wasn’t quite as demolished as others they had passed through. There were even a couple trees standing. Jack was using her biotics to keep her full load aloft, but she was ready for a break. She stopped.

“Okay, cheerleader. Hold on a second. I realize I said it doesn’t matter how far we were going, but could you at least let me know if we’re getting close?”

Miranda said, “Believe it or not, we’re almost there. We have to make this next right. Then halfway down the block and then we’re there. Well, then there are couple flights of stairs.”

“Of course there are.” Jack grumbled sarcastically, but she was still too happy to really care.

When they finally reached the door to the apartment, Miranda pulled a key card out of her pocket.

“Would you like to do the honors?”

“No. This is your place. You should go in first.”

“But this is your key, Jack.” Jack just looked at her, not quite understanding. Miranda couldn’t wait anymore, so she passed the key in front of the sensor and pushed the door open.

They walked into a central room with one large window. Against one wall, there was a counter with three stools. A small fridge and an oven. Otherwise it was empty. Three doors led off the central room.

Miranda started gesturing. “Just drop everything here. So this is the kitchen slash living room and there’s one bedroom there. And another bedroom here. And a bathroom. Just the basics, bare bones, but it’s quiet and safe here. And come look at this.” Miranda took Jack’s hand and led her across to the window. “You can step through here, and there’s a little balcony. See? Step out there.”

Jack looked dubious.

“It’s quite safe. They’ve assured me. This building is fairly new, and this neighborhood was spared during much of the fighting.”

“Alright. But you better be out there with me in two seconds. If we’re going down, we’re going down together.” Jack smirked and said, “You know what I mean.”

Miranda rolled her eyes and went back to the one of the bags.

Jack climbed through and sat in the sun for a moment and found herself already thinking of the memories they would make in this place, even though she still wasn’t sure exactly what was going on. Two bedrooms? Miranda emerged through the window with two small boxes in her hand before Jack could consider that further.

“It’s not exactly delicious, but it’s completely balanced for our nutritional needs, if the box is to be believed. From the ship.” She held a box out toward Jack.

Jack took it and said, “Thanks. So, you’re renting this place?”

“I own this place.”

“I think you should start doing all this talking you’ve been promising.”

Miranda sat down next to her. “Okay. I’ll try to get this all out in a sensible order, but forgive me if I don’t. There’s a lot to say, and I’m really excited to be here with you. Everything’s a bit jumbled.”

Jack’s chest filled with emotion when Miranda said she was excited to be with her. Miranda wasn't one to get "excited" about much.

“So. I’ve been in touch with Oriana quite a bit over the last few weeks. You know she’s my top priority.”

Jack nodded as she ate.

“I mean, Jack, you’re a top priority too . . .”

With a full mouth, Jack said, “Miranda, I get it. You don’t have to explain.”

“Well, Oriana can’t leave Earth right now, of course. And the training she already has on best practices in colonization and her mind in general mean that she might be able to help with planning and reconstruction efforts. It makes sense for her to come to London. And you’re here. At least for now. And hopefully for a while. So there’s all that.”

She continued, “You know I’ve been out with Hackett’s people. I owe Hackett quite a lot for backing me to be pardoned by the Council. And I want to do everything I can to snuff out the last of Cerberus. For my own sake, as well as for everyone else. But, as you’ll see later, I am not what I used to be in the fighting department.” Jack went to ask a question, but Miranda held up her hand and kept talking.

“So, I talked to Hackett about staying in London and working more on the analysis side, at least for the moment. You know I’ve basically been loaning the ship out to the Alliance anyway. I made a deal with Hackett to sell it to the Alliance. Thus, you helped me move today.”

 “Jack, part of me wanted to talk to you about all this before, but I didn’t want you to feel pressured. This place is in my and Oriana’s names at the moment, but we could change that at some point in the future. If you want. I know we’re still figuring everything out between us, and living together is a big step. And living with my sister—that’s a whole other thing. I don’t even know if you feel like you can live apart from your students right now. So I hope you’re not hurt or offended that I didn’t ask you to join us in buying the place. But it is your place too, to whatever degree you want it to be. And this is your key.” Miranda held out the key card to Jack again.

This time Jack took it. She held onto it a bit like lifeline as she tried to sort through everything Miranda had just said.

Miranda added, “I know, it’s a lot to take in.”

“It is a lot. A lot. I mean, I like it here. It’s, just, a lot to consider.”

“I know.”

“I haven’t even met your sister. Maybe she doesn’t want to share a bathroom with a stranger in a place she owns.”

“She shared a bathroom with plenty of strangers when she was at school. I’m sure you two will get along. But, again, I don’t want to pressure you. I just want you to know you can be here whenever you want. I want you to be here.”

“What about rent?”

“Jack.” Miranda closed her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. “There’s no rent. You’re not my tenant. You’re my . . . girlfriend? Whatever label we’re using, you can pay me back in other ways.” She took Jack’s hand. “Of course, that sounds rather bad when I say it out loud.”

“If I stay here, I’m going to give you money. And I’m not going to argue about it or change my mind.”

Miranda decided to let it lie. “Okay, fine. We’ll figure that out as we go along.” She squeezed Jack’s hand, “Do you want to see the bedroom?”

“Sure.”

They climbed back through the window, and Miranda guided her to the larger of the side rooms.

“So what do you think?”

Jack pulled Miranda into her arms. “I think I could totally do it with you here.”

“Hmmm. Don’t you think that about everywhere?”

“Not everywhere. Of course, a bed would be nice . . .”

“Your wish is my command.” Miranda left the room and started opening boxes.  Finally, she said, “Jack, please, come get this.” Miranda pointed to a brand new self-inflating mattress. Jack lifted it out and said, “Here you go. Tired out from those two boxes, eh?”

“Sort of . . . look, unfortunately, it takes a little while to fully inflate the first time. Unfold it and we’ll take a walk around the neighborhood while it does its thing.”

“Right away, ma’am.”

“Jack . . . sorry, I’ve had a tiring few weeks.” She went back out to the boxes.

“Hey Miranda, I don’t mind. I’m just kidding you,” Jack called after her as she opened the mattress. As she unfolded it, she looked through the door at Miranda bending over the boxes looking for something else. In all the excitement of being together, walking here, being in the place, sex had slipped to the back of Jack’s mind. But now, it was boldly at the forefront again. She couldn’t wait to get Miranda out of those jeans.

They walked around the neighborhood, looking at the other buildings, the signs of devastation and rebuilding all around them. They passed a few more people and silently acknowledged them. Miranda talked a little about some of what had been happening in the fight against Cerberus, the factions that were developing, and the anti-alien ideologies driving them. But she said she didn’t want to go into too much detail, and Jack let it go for the moment. Miranda hinted that some things had not really gone as planned during the operations, but again, didn’t really fill in the blanks.

They walked side by side and Miranda pointed out architectural features and certain trees. She talked a bit about the history of London. Jack just listened and tried to keep of thinking about ripping off her clothes. At one point she went to reach for Miranda’s hand, but she lost her nerve for reasons she didn’t totally understand. She was thinking about sex, but somehow holding hands in the street seemed like too much of a commitment. Soon, they were back at the apartment.

*****

Miranda stood in the hallway and asked, “So, are you going to open the door this time?”

“Sure. Would you like me to carry you in?”

“Not today.”

When they got back to the room, the mattress was almost fully inflated.

Miranda pointed at the boxes and said, “Somewhere in those, there are a couple pillows and some blankets. Take off your shoes and help me find them.”

“You really thought of everything, huh?”

“Yes. That’s kind of what I do.”

They found everything and got the bed ready. Jack turned to Miranda and said, “Miranda, I’m not going to lie. I don’t think I can wait to be with you any longer.” She walked right up to her and kissed her. It was a soft, passionate, open-mouthed kiss and as it happened, Jack let out a small groan. Jack stepped back a little and looked in Miranda's eyes: “You are so beautiful. And this outfit is turning me on even more than your usual. Which is saying a lot.” Jack held Miranda’s cheek and kissed her again, deeply. Then she moved her hands to lift the T-shirt.

“Jack. Hold on.”

Jack gave her a questioning look.

“Remember when I said that my fighting skills weren’t quite what they used to be? Well, you’re going to see the evidence of that in a second. Let me.”

Miranda slowly pulled the T-shirt off, revealing a fresh, angry red scar on the front of her right shoulder.

“Miranda, what the fuck?” Jack looked at the scar, then turned Miranda’s body sideways to look at the back of the shoulder, where another scar was raised. “You didn’t think to mention this before? To tell me when it happened?”

“Jack, don’t be mad. There was nothing you could do about it. There was a medical team with me.” Jack went to say something, but Miranda repeated, “There was nothing you could do about it. Telling you would have only made you upset and worried.”

“How would you feel if this happened to me while you were away and I didn’t tell you?” Jack was angry, but quiet.

“I’m sure I would feel angry too, but, Jack, everything is fine. I think it’s the final sign that I need to be out of the field for the moment. Since that day with Oriana and my father, I’ve lost my edge or my nerve . . . or something.” Miranda sounded sad making this admission.

Jack sighed, and gently touched the spot. “Does it still hurt?”

“It really doesn’t. My arm isn’t quite up to full strength yet, but it doesn’t hurt that much. We took care of it right away. It looks worse than it actually is.”

Jack touched the scar again. “I am really, really pissed at you, but I’m glad you’re okay. Are you going to tell me how this happened?”

Miranda sighed. “Can that wait till another day? Can we get back to making love on this mattress that I purchased expressly for that purpose?” Her blue eyes looked deep into Jack’s.

An earlier incarnation of Jack, a younger, angrier, more cynical version, would have scoffed at the mere expression “making love,” but the Jack standing before Miranda at that moment had never felt like she understood the meaning of it better. She met Miranda’s gaze and said, “Alright. Yes. But you have to tell me if this hurts.” She leaned forward to kiss the scar. “Deal?”

“Yes. Deal. Now get out of your clothes. It’s going to take forever if you rely on me.”

“Fine. I’m taking off everyone’s clothes. Just stand there and don’t get shot for a minute.”

Miranda put her hand on her hip. "Oh, yes, ha ha. I'm glad we've moved on to joking about this already." But she watched with eager eyes as Jack got undressed. She exhaled when Jack was finally standing naked in front of her. “Jack, YOU are so beautiful.” She reached out to put her hand on Jack's breast.

Jack stepped toward her and kissed the side of her neck. She whispered, “Don’t try to butter me up. I’m still pissed at you.” She unhooked Miranda's bra with an expert gesture and slid it down her arms. She looked at Miranda's breasts and said, "Incredible, as always." She stood back and unbuttoned and unzipped Miranda’s jeans. “Any injuries down here I should know about?”

“No, smartass.”

Jack put her hands on Miranda’s hips and pushed the jeans down. As she slid them down, she knelt down on the floor. She put her hands back on Miranda’s hips, pulling her toward her and kissing her just below the navel.

“Miranda, I love you.”

“What was that?”

Jack stood up and said with a smile, “I said, Miranda, I can’t believe how much I want you when I’m so pissed at you.”

“Uh-huh.”

Jack took Miranda’s hand and said, “Alright, onto the magic making-love mattress.”

Miranda laid down, and Jack laid down next to her. “Don’t make fun of me and my mattress.”

Jack kissed her again and said, “I’m not. This is absolutely my favorite mattress of all time. Now make room for me.” She shifted to get between Miranda’s legs, then lay there for a second enjoying the feeling of their bodies pressed together. Everything was warm and soft and peaceful and beautiful. Miranda wrapped her legs around Jack’s waist and squeezed her.

Jack said, “Are you sure this isn’t hurting you?”

“I’m sure.”

Jack was suddenly serious. “Miranda. I missed you so fucking much.” Jack gently put her right hand on Miranda’s face, tracing her eyebrows, cheekbones, and jawline. She reached around to take Miranda’s hair out of the ponytail. She held it in her hand for a moment, rubbing its softness. "I missed your softness." She kissed Miranda’s chest and shoulders and neck then looked up to kiss her mouth again. She moved so their breasts were pressed together and wrapped her right arm under Miranda’s left shoulder. "And how amazing you smell." Her hips began to thrust gently against Miranda as she continued kissing her, licking her bottom lip, then nibbling it, and finally slipping her tongue back into Miranda’s soft mouth. After the kiss, she spoke against Miranda's lips: "And how amazing you taste. So much.”

Miranda put her hands on either side of Jack’s face and looked in her eyes for a long moment. “Jack, me too. I missed you and I wanted to tell you . . . everything. But it was too much. I was waiting for this moment the whole time I was away. I’ve been waiting for this moment since we were at the Citadel together. To be naked with you.” She kissed Jack’s cheek. “To feel your skin against mine.” She exhaled and pulled Jack against her. Inside she felt like she had finally made it home after a difficult journey.

Jack kissed Miranda's collarbone and didn't meet her eyes as she said, “I can’t believe you even like me . . .”

Miranda shook her head. “Jack, I like you and I love you. One day you’ll believe it’s true. Just give me more time.”

Jack kept kissing Miranda’s body as she talked. “I believe you, it just seems crazy. You could do so much better than me.”

“I have never met anyone who is a better match for me. I don’t want anyone else. I might agree it seems a bit crazy, but life is crazy. There’s nothing we can do about it.” She leaned up to kiss her.

Jack gently met her lips, then slowly moved down to kiss her breasts, taking her time with each. Miranda arched to push against her mouth. Finally, Jack began to run her right hand over Miranda’s waist and left hip, then lifted her body to allow her hand to slide down over Miranda’s clit, which was hard and wet beneath her touch.

As Miranda gasped, Jack whispered in her ear, “How can it be that I’ve never kissed you here?”

Miranda answered quietly, excited but still coy, “I don’t know. Unlucky, I guess.” Miranda’s heart was pounding and she swallowed as she met Jack’s gaze again.

“Hmmm, well, I’m about to change that.”

Miranda’s only response was a soft moan. Jack shifted down so her head was between Miranda’s thighs. She kissed each at mid-thigh, then moved down another inch and kissed each again. Miranda’s hips were thrusting toward her and she was still moaning softly. Jack began to caress Miranda’s clitoris with her right hand as she continued to kiss her thighs.

“Baby, you are so wet.” She said this with genuine surprise as she rubbed gentle clockwise circles and watched Miranda’s thrusting speed up.

Miranda gasped out, “For you, Jack,” with an edge of need in her voice.

Finally, Jack kissed her way to the swollen, throbbing bud, and began to gently suck and lick it. The loudness of Miranda’s moaning doubled. Jack continued sucking, first increasing the speed and intensity and then slowing down again to talk between long, warm strokes of her tongue up and down its full length. “Miranda . . . every . . . inch . . . of . . . your . . . body . . . is . . . gorgeous. Although, this might be my favorite.” With her fingers she began to trace small circles in the thick wetness at Miranda’s entrance. “Can I come inside you?”

“Yes.”

Jack slid two fingers inside Miranda and continued kissing her clitoris. The wetness flowed down her hand.  Still moving her hand, she replaced her tongue with her thumb. It felt so natural when she started saying, "Miranda, I love you. I love you.”

Miranda was gasping and moaning. ”Jack, I love you too.”

Jack continued the same rhythm, and kissed Miranda’s thigh again.

“Jack, harder!”

Jack pushed further inside her and increased her speed. She slid out of Miranda and reentered her with three fingers. Her thumb was rubbing the swollen clit insistently, and Miranda was pressing into her. She was tightening around Jack’s fingers and gasping. Her excitement was making Jack moan along with her. When Jack took Miranda’s clit into her mouth again, the wetness and the heat and the softness pushed Miranda over the edge. She grasped Jack’s head with both hands and screamed out her name. As her aftershocks faded slowly, she released her grip. “Sorry,” she said a little sheepishly.

“Uh, that’s no problem at all. Please feel free to do that whenever you want to come in my mouth while screaming my name.” Jack was looking up at her with almost giddy joy. Having brought that much pleasure to Miranda was filling her with pride and happiness.

“Jack, get up here.”

Jack moved so they were face to face and they began to kiss again. She rolled so Miranda and she were lying on their sides. She loved how gently they were holding each other. She put her hand on Miranda’s waist, then slowly slid it up till it was barely touching the scar.

“Your shoulder okay?”

“It’s fine. Absolutely everything is fine.”

“You know, I think I’m going to be staying here a lot.”

A smile spread over Miranda’s face as she leaned in to kiss her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More pillow talk, Jack and Miranda Lawson style. So much angst, so much fluff. I can't help myself.
> 
> Begins immediately after the events of the last chapter.

In Miranda’s defense, Jack had just asked her about the scar on her shoulder. They were talking about scars. As Miranda’s fingers gently traced the large scar on Jack’s throat—and without thinking about it first—she said quietly, “They hurt you so much.”

Jack instantly tensed, and Miranda instantly regretted her words. In her own afterglow, she had forgotten to take into account exactly how vulnerable Jack was in these moments. And how strong—and negative—her reaction to a statement like that would likely be. Not that it would ever be the right moment for that discussion, but this one was . . . completely wrong. “Damn it, that was a mistake,” Miranda thought as she felt Jack pushing her hand away.

“Miranda, no.” Jack shifted a few inches backward. “God, the only thing I hate fucking worse than a bad girl fetish is a hurt little girl fetish!”

“Jack, that is not what . . .”

Jack’s jaw was thrust forward, defiant. Her eyes were filled with anger and hurt: “You don’t get to ask about her. You don’t get to know who and how or how many times or how much it hurt.”

“Jack, I’m sorry.” Miranda reached to hold onto Jack, but Jack pulled away, unready to forgive this intrusion into her pain, no matter how unintentional. The intensity of Jack’s emotion was washing over Miranda, and she decided to be cautious and listen for a moment. It was borderline miraculous how seldom Jack’s past had come up. There hadn’t been a lot of time to discuss the past when the present and future had been so uncertain.

She met Jack’s gaze with what she hoped was a calm, reassuring look. Honestly, she felt a little scared. Not that she would be hurt, but about this latest test of their relationship, which she hadn’t meant to trigger at all.

Jack’s voice was a rising as she went along. “There was no one else to help that girl. I fucking saved myself without any help from anyone. The last thing I want is fucking pity from you.”

“Jack, I don’t pity you—I respect you! More than I’ve let you know, obviously. All I want is the woman in front of me right now. I don’t want anything from your past that you don’t want to share with me.”

“You sure about that?” Jack pointed at the scar, anger turning her eyes red (though she sure as hell would not let a single tear flow). “Are you sure you can live without knowing all the gory details of how this happened? Must have been pretty fucked up, right? Some other people have had a problem with me not wanting to spill all the specifics for them.” Jack sat up and formed air quotes and said, “You know, so they can ‘really get to know me.’ And I’m the one with the fucking problems?” She let out an angry laugh.

Miranda took a moment before responding. Miranda told herself Honesty is the best policy. Stick with saying what you really think and feel, be open with her—and hope for the best. 

Miranda sat up in the bed too. “Jack, I am sure. Like I just said, I only want you to share what you’re willing to share.”

Jack said “Uh-huh.” She stood and then began to pick up her clothes. “I think maybe I should go.” Miranda considered her silently, wondering what to do next. All she could say was “Jack, please don’t . . .”

Jack pulled on her pants, then sat back down on the mattress, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t want to fucking leave . . .” She sat with her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands.

Miranda wondered how many times they would have to go through this dance, how hard it would be to finally win Jack’s trust once and for all. She even wondered if that day would ever come and how emotionally draining it would be—for both of them—to get there. But the journey to that trust was what a relationship was, right?

MIranda rolled off the mattress on her side, and walked around to kneel in front of Jack. She put her hands on the outsides of Jack’s knees, and looked into her dark, troubled eyes.

“Jack, I never mean to do anything that hurts you. I know a lot about many things, but I’m still learning how to be in a relationship with you. In a real relationship at all. Please trust me when I say I don’t want anything from you that you don’t want to give. Anything I do or say that makes you feel disrespected or bad in any way is not intentional. I have been dreaming of being here with you. I think we’ve spent enough time apart. Please accept my apology for hurting you and stay.”

Jack looked down and tilted her head to the side a bit, then reached to take one of Miranda’s hands in her own. She held it in front of her midway between her knees, squeezing it a little, staring at it intently for a moment. She thought of how much she loved being held by this hand, and she felt a little trapped by her own reaction. She didn’t want to leave and she didn’t want to fight. She just couldn’t stand it if Miranda thought of her as weak or helpless. She struggled for a next move, looking at Miranda patiently kneeling in front of her. Finally she said, “Is this what it’s gonna be like when you propose to me, cheerleader?”

Miranda half-smiled at this response. “Well, I plan to be wearing more clothes and to be considerably more confident that you’ll say yes. And hopefully I won’t have just finished apologizing.”

Jack sighed again. “Miranda, I don’t fucking know how to be in a relationship either. The closer I feel to you, the more I’m convinced I’m going to lose you. And that makes me scared. And then THAT makes me angry. It’s like the only way I know how to deal with any feelings at all is to fight. Or to f. . . have sex. And then on top of all that happening in my head, you had to say that. I don’t want to lose you, but I sure as hell don’t want to be your pet rescue project.” 

“That is not what’s happening between us—and it never has been.”

“Yeah, well it never seemed that way till you said that.”

Miranda sighed and nodded a little. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. But, Jack, think back to all the things I have ever said to you. I am attracted to your strength. I don’t think you need to be rescued. I don’t think you need anyone. The same way I don’t think I need anyone. I like to think we want each other without that needing and that’s part of what can make this work.” She paused for a moment, then continued, “Jack, the truth is, I think of you as being quite like me. So I think of you as being as normal as I am—whatever that’s worth.” 

Jack considered everything Miranda had said. She thought about how she really had no choice but to take Miranda at her word. Was it so bad if what she said was exactly what Jack wanted to hear? Maybe that could be a good thing, instead of some cosmic conspiracy against her happiness that would blow up in her face . . . next week, next month, some day. Still . . .

“Why didn’t you hold my hand today?” Jack looked back up into Miranda’s eyes.

“What?”

“When we were walking around today, why didn’t you hold my hand?” 

Ah, Miranda thought, one step forward, two steps back. She kept herself from asking, “Why didn’t you hold mine?” Calming, not escalating, was the objective here. “Because we were both carrying boxes until we got here?”

“Not when we were walking around the block. Miranda, what do you think people thought when they saw us together?”

“I didn’t really think about it.”

“Uh-huh. Well, believe me, they didn’t think we’re . . . together. Not like lovers together. They thought I’m some homeless vet you hired to help you with manual labor ‘cause I need money.” Inside, Miranda hurt for the weight of the insecurities Jack carried around. Not that she would EVER breathe a hint of that to Jack.

“I wasn’t thinking about what other people were thinking about us, because I was just happy that we were together. But believe me, Jack, I will proudly walk every street of this city holding your hand tomorrow or any day, if that is what you would like. I would like nothing better than for everyone to know that you are mine.”

Jack was tired, her anger was spent, and the way Miranda said “proudly” and “mine” felt so good. She put her arms around Miranda and held her close. “All right. I’m staying. I’m staying.”

“I’m very happy to hear it. Now, would you, please, help me up?” 

“Sorry. C’mon.” Jack pulled Miranda up off her knees, then pulled her into bed, and held her close.

After a few minutes, they moved apart. They looked at each other silently. Miranda felt a small smile beginning to curl her lip. They had made it through this storm, back to peacefulness. 

Jack began to shimmy out of her pants under the covers. Looking at the ceiling she said, “Miranda . . . sometimes I can’t control all the feelings that come up.”

“Jack, one of the things I love about you is your totally honest reactions. And I promise to give you the same in return. I’m not saying it can’t be a little . . . challenging . . . in the moment. But we’re both strong enough to work through these moments. We’re still building our trust in each other, but everything will get easier in time. I guess. I hope. Either way we’ll do it together.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jack reached out to hold Miranda’s hand, squeezing it, but keeping her eyes steadily on the ceiling. “Thanks for talking it out with me. You know, Miranda . . . " Jack sighed then said, "I’m pretty sure I’m completely fucking in love with you.”

Miranda hugged Jack and kissed her forehead, then said, “Jack, look at me.” Jack finally moved to look up at her. “You are not going to lose me. We are going to be together as long as you want this. Which I hope will be a very long time, because . . . I don’t want to lose you either.” She paused, but then added, “I get scared too, but I’m not one to express that—in any way. But you should know that. If we’re building trust, I have to learn to give a little more too.” She wondered if Jack could feel her heart beginning to pound as she moved to squeeze her tight. 

TO BE CONTINUED


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Miranda's life in London continues. Oriana moves in and goes on a date. Jack and Miranda have a serious conversation.
> 
> Beginning the morning after the previous chapter.
> 
> The next chapter will finish the story, and these two are going to have some more sex before it's all over.

The next morning, Jack woke up early. For a long time, she lay there on the mattress considering the beautiful woman beside her, watching her breathe. “Holy shit,” she thought, “How did I end up here?” She tried to imprint the moment in her mind—the quiet, the half-light. She kissed Miranda on the cheek to wake her up, saying, “Miranda, guess what?”

“Mmm, what?” Miranda barely opened her eyes, but her smile was big.

“I’m going to see you again tonight. Sure you’re ready for this level of commitment?”

“Completely.”

Jack kissed her on the lips this time. “I’ve got to get back for PT, but I’ll be free again in the afternoon. Let me know when you’ll be here.” Jack started to gather her clothes.

“Jack, you can come here without me.”

“Why would I want to?”

Miranda’s eyes were open now. “Well, if you ever do, you can. Remember that, okay?”

“Okay, sure. We’ll see.”

Miranda sat up and stretched. Jack couldn’t help but stare. When Miranda caught her looking, she just raised an eyebrow then gestured for Jack to come to her. “Come on. Give me hug then get out of here. There’s no time for what you’re thinking.”

Jack laughed. “Who would have ever fucking imagined this back on the old Normandy?” She plopped down on the mattress and gave Miranda a hug.

“Only Shepard, I suspect. Of course, I hope we get the chance to give the others a surprise.”

Jack looked down and nodded with a sigh, “Yeah, me too.” The chance would come sooner than they thought.

****  


A huge, cheering crowd was assembled for the return of the Normandy, including the media. But Alliance personnel quickly whisked the crew away for “medical checks” (and debriefing about the alterations to the drive core that had allowed them to return to Earth) after they waved to the crowd for a short moment. Alliance public relations promised future interviews with the returned heroes.

When Liara exited the Mako at the hospital, she made a beeline for Miranda and Jack. All she could say was “Take me to her.” In a gesture that would have been unimaginable at their first meeting, Miranda wrapped her arm around the asari’s shoulders and said quietly, “We’ll go right now. The rest of this can wait.”

****  


Jack and Miranda exchanged concerned glances across the hospital hallway after leading a scared and tired Liara to the doorway of Shepard’s room. Her anguished exclamation of “Shepard!” at the sight of her lover hung in the air. Samara stepped aside as Liara moved to the bed, but remained next to her, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. Liara touched Shepard’s hand, her chest, and her face, trying to reassure herself that she really was still alive. Finally, she sank to her knees, allowing herself to cry into the covers, her crest pressed against Shepard’s side. Tears still streamed down her face as she stood to embrace Samara.

“Samara,” she started, but her voice broke. She recovered herself and continued, “I can never repay you for being here when I couldn’t be.”

“I have merely repaid Shepard for all she has done for me.” Samara took a step back and looked in Liara’s eyes. “I believe she will recover . . . especially now that you are here.”

Miranda took this as her cue to move into the room. “Liara, I agree with Samara. The doctors don’t understand everything that happened to her that day, but her body is healing. As for what is happening in her mind, perhaps you will be able to understand that better than any of us.”

Jack stepped through the door and said, “I agree too. I think Shepard’s been waiting for you. She’s going to wake up.” She wasn’t sure if she really believed it or simply wanted it to be true. She couldn’t bear the thought that Shepard and Liara wouldn’t have the chance to be together after everything. At the same time, she felt sadness for Samara and her unrequited feelings. She realized she was becoming an unreserved romantic. And more, that she cared about the happiness and feelings of her . . . friends . . . as much as her own. It was a beautiful, though scary, thing. She really was growing as a goddamn person.

She noticed that the other three were all staring at her. All she could say was, “She’s going to.” She stepped into the room and said, “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get back to the academy.” With the slightest hint of a flush to her face, she leaned in to kiss Miranda on the cheek. “See you later.” Turning to the others, she said, “I’m glad you’re here, Liara. Samara, you know you can stay with us if you’d like.” She peered back at Miranda: “Right?”

“Of course.” Miranda smiled at both the offer and Jack checking in with her, though a little belatedly.

Samara shook her head. “Thank you. But there’s a community of stranded asari here in London. I will go to them to see what assistance I can offer. I will stay in their enclave. But I’m sure I will see you here.”

“I’m sure,” Jack said a little too certainly. “Would you like to walk out with me now?”

Samara nodded and after another round of good-byes, the two set off. They walked silently through the halls until Jack said, “You were there for her, Samara. She’ll always know that. I know it must be . . . it must have been hard.” Jack wanted to somehow honor Samara’s feelings, but there was no real way to do it.

Samara simply said “Thank you” without breaking stride and that was the end of it.

****

Life continued and routines took shape. Miranda went to work with Hackett’s group. Jack continued working with the students. It seemed that Grissom Academy would be based in the London area for the foreseeable future. Jack spent most nights at the apartment. Things were peaceful.

Oriana arrived and seamlessly integrated into the home life Jack and Miranda were creating day by day. She was smart and funny in a nerdy way. Serious about her work and learning without being too uptight—for a Lawson. She made Miranda happy and that made Jack happy. But Jack liked Ori in her own right. She still had an idealism about her that neither Jack nor Miranda would ever be able to have. It was nice to be around it. The downside was it made Miranda worry. A lot.

So when Oriana first mentioned maybe going on a date with a 26-year-old coworker one morning at breakfast, Miranda immediately objected it wouldn't work because he was "too old."

“Miri!”

Jack used a sausage to point at herself and then Miranda: “Uh, this seems to be working out.”

“We’re different.”

Jack laughed. “You are hilarious. She’s an adult. She can decide who she wants to date.”

Oriana chimed back in, “Listen to Jack. He’s a really nice guy. And he’s smart.”

Miranda sighed and shrugged. “Of course he is. Fine. I don’t feel like fighting both of you. But he’s coming here to meet me before you go out.”

Oriana smiled and said, “Okay. Deal.”

****  


The next thing Miranda knew, it was a Saturday afternoon, and Mr. Nice and Smart was standing in front of her with flowers and a picnic basket in his hands. He greeted her with friendly enthusiasm while she returned a polite coolness, but before she could interrogate him properly, Oriana whisked him out the door. “I'll be back tonight!”

Miranda called after her, “Call me if you’re going to be later than 11.”

When they were gone, she turned to Jack. “Could you even get off the sofa?”

“I think you were intimidating him enough on your own.”

Miranda went to the window and looked down on the street. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

Jack laughed, “Are you serious? Miranda, you have got to relax.”

Miranda grabbed her key card and said, “I’m going. You can stay here if you want.”

“Oh, I’m coming. Someone has to keep you under control.”

****

From behind a stand of three trees, Miranda and Jack looked at Oriana and Adam as they laid out the picnic blanket.

“Don’t you think he’s laying it on a bit thick? Flowers? A picnic . . . with wine!” Miranda added with disgust.

“Yeah, it’s terrible. And she’s naïve enough to actually be enjoying it. T minus one hour and he’s in her pants.”

Miranda pushed Jack’s shoulder. “Ugh. Jack, don’t.”

“Do you think that maybe they just like each other? Miranda, we should head home before she sees us. Because, trust me, that would be a disaster. She’ll call if there’s any problem. And she’s got biotic skills. Let’s go.” Jack was gently pulling on her hand. “I’ll open you a bottle of wine.”

“Is that an attempt at flirting?”

“No, it’s an attempt to keep you from ruining the trust between you and your sister.”

Miranda looked at her quietly.

“Miranda, I would not leave if I didn’t think she was 100% okay. I care about her too, you know.”

Miranda exhaled, “I know. Fine. You’re right. Let’s go home.”

“And drink wine.”

“And drink wine.”

“And have crazy sex.”

“We’ll see . . .”

****

An hour later, after crazy sex, Miranda and Jack lay in bed talking.

Miranda faced the ceiling, shrugging. “I don’t know. I don’t think I could cut it as a mother. I know it drives Ori crazy, but I can’t help worrying all the time. And she already has a mother. Who obviously did a wonderful job.”

“Miranda, you’re fine. I love how much you care about her. You've done everything for her. Things a mother would have done, to keep her safe. You’re a very good older sister.”

“I’m just happy I have the chance.”

They were quiet for a few moments, then Jack cleared her throat. “Can we talk about something?”

Hearing the tone of Jack’s voice, Miranda knew better than to use one of her typical, sarcastic rejoinders like “I don’t know. Can we?” She took Jack’s hand and rolled to face her. She brushed some hairs from Jack's forehead and said, “Of course. Whatever you would like to talk about.”

Jack gathered her courage. “So, what you said about being a mother . . .” A long pause.

“Yes?” Miranda really had no idea where this might be headed.

“I guess we maybe should’ve talked about this before . . .” Jack’s eyes showed a nervousness that was echoed in her speech, pauses followed by rushes of words. “ . . . but, I don’t know, the moment never came up with everything else going on . . . I mean, if that’s something you want, I think you should know . . . I might not be able to have children either. I, I don’t mean to upset you by bringing this up.” Jack looked away, but the words still poured out: “But, like I said, I guess you should know that if . . .“ Jack swallowed and continued more quietly, “. . . if you’re thinking about being with me, you know, for a long time or whatever. Not to assume anything. Or, uh, a bunch of things.” Jack exhaled a long breath, but all she could hear was the rush of blood in her ears. She couldn’t bring herself to meet Miranda’s gaze again.

Miranda tried to absorb all of this, all of the ramifications. That Jack would trust her with this. That Jack was worried about hurting her. That Jack believed for some reason that she couldn’t have children. She put her hand on Jack’s chest before she could form a full response. First, she said the most important thing: “Jack, I love you.”

Jack’s “Me too” was automatic. She wondered if she should’ve said “I love you” somewhere in her speech. It wasn’t like she really had had a plan . . . It just seemed like the moment had finally been right; it had been hard enough to get out what she did. She heard Miranda continue to speak.

“I do want to be with you for a long time. Maybe a lifetime—but we will figure that out together.” She drew in a ragged breath. “I appreciate you talking to me about this. Jack, you have to know that even if you’re right about this, it doesn’t affect how I feel about being with you. At all.”

Jack responded with a simple, “Okay.” There was still an undercurrent of unresolved emotions and tension in the air. Miranda waded into it, unsure if that was the right decision: “You don’t have to answer, and I hope you can excuse me asking, but what makes you think this?”

Jack was surprised that what she felt in that moment was more relief than anger. She wanted to talk to Miranda about this after having it in the back of her mind for a long time, to unburden herself. Even if it was hard. She had had a lifetime of mostly not talking, and she was ready to try something else with Miranda. And this wasn't about her past so much as it was about their future. Their possible future. If Miranda didn’t want the real her, exactly as she was, better to find out sooner rather than later. (A small part of her wondered that if she really thought Miranda would reject her, would she be so willing to talk?) “Well, considering my . . . my life experiences . . . it doesn’t make sense that I’ve never gotten pregnant. So I think maybe . . . they . . . did something to me to keep that from happening.” For a moment, Miranda thought Jack might say more, but she was silent.

Waves of both sadness and rage washed over Miranda. She almost never let herself think about Jack’s past. Now in this moment she was confronted with so many horrible aspects of it at once. She wanted to scream at the universe or cry—or kill someone. But she knew this moment was not about her feelings. She wanted to wrap Jack in her arms and keep her safe, away from everyone and everything else. She tried to keep her voice even when she spoke. “I am so sorry . . . . If you ever wanted to find out for sure, we can try to . . .” Best to keep her response short and direct as she struggled to master her emotions.

Jack said hesitantly, with no malice, “Through old Cerberus records?” but the words were like a punch to the throat. Whatever Miranda had felt a few seconds before, she suddenly felt exponentially worse. It was stomach churning, that somehow she could be tied to the people that had done . . . anything . . . to Jack. That Jack could say those words while in the bed they shared together. It was horrifying and heartbreaking.

“Jack, no. There was never anything like that in any report.” She added as quickly as possible, “I am not saying it didn’t happen. I’m just saying there are certainly no records of it.” She wanted to go on, to say, “Jack, I would’ve stopped them. Forbidden it! Shut it down! I would’ve done more than fire people; I would’ve executed them for their crimes.” But again, this moment wasn’t about her. About making herself feel better. And maybe she only wanted all those things to be true . . . but this was no time to be examining her past errors in judgment. She would have to make time for those reflections, no matter how painful they might be. But now, she was in this moment with the woman she loved more than anything. “Jack, we’ll find a doctor. If you want. Jack, whatever you want. I just . . . I just want to be with you. I love you.”

She put her arms around Jack and pulled her close, and instead of resisting, Jack snuggled closer. Miranda thought to herself and the universe, “I don’t even deserve this. But I’m not going to give it up. I’ll find a way to deserve it.” She was squeezing Jack tight, and soon they shifted so Jack was lying on top of her, resting her head on Miranda’s chest.

Jack said quietly, “There are other ways to have a family,” surprising Miranda again, driving the love she was feeling even deeper into the recesses of her heart.

“There are,“ she replied. “We can explore all of them. If you want to . . .” She caressed the short hair on the side of Jack’s head gently, the whole time feeling emotionally overwhelmed, repeating in her mind over and over, “I love you so much.”

Jack loved the feeling of being pressed into Miranda while being embraced. She felt loved. She had gotten through saying all of that and lived. She was proud of herself and felt relieved. She said, “Well, we should figure out exactly what we’re doing first. I mean, kids need to know their family is going to be there for them. Oriana probably actually loves it when you worry about her. It reminds her how much you care.”

In that moment, Miranda knew with certainty that Jack wanted security more than anything. And she was determined to be the one to give it to her. She simply replied, “You’re absolutely right.”

****  


About a week before the anniversary of Shepard’s party at the Citadel, Miranda turned to Jack in bed and said, “I have a surprise for you.”

Jack grinned and said, “Bring it on.”

Miranda shook her head lightly and said, “Jack, that would hardly be a surprise.”

Jack frowned.

“Not that it isn’t amazing." She nudged Jack until she smiled a little. "Now listen, I’ve made arrangements for us to go to Vancouver Beach next weekend and for a few days after. I already checked with Sanders and everything is set up. I didn’t want to spring it on you at the last minute. I know you only like some surprises.”

Jack could see Miranda was excited. And it would be nice to get away from Oriana for a few days and be alone with Miranda again for a little while.

“Cool. It’ll be fun to be alone together and go someplace new.”

Miranda smiled and Jack smiled back. 

“Now I have a surprise for you.” Jack moved to straddle her girlfriend.

“Still not a surprise, Jack. Not a surprise.” But Miranda sat up to kiss her.

TO BE CONTINUED (We'll wrap up our story with a final chapter when Jack and Miranda finally make that trip to the beach)  
****


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Miranda finally make that trip to the beach. We end as we began with romance, sex, angst, and fluff. 
> 
> And love. Including my crazy love for this ship.

The sun was high in the sky when the hovercar pulled into the driveway of a beach house with a large deck. The smell and sound of the surf filled the air. As Jack got out of the car and looked toward the ocean, she simply said, “Wow.”

Miranda climbed out and came to take Jack’s hand. “Come on. Walk down to the water with me.” Then she looked down: “Okay, first take off your boots.”

Jack immediately sat down and removed them. As they started down the dune again, she turned to Miranda with an annoyed look. “Cheerleader! Nice warning . . . this shit is burning my feet!” She dropped Miranda’s hand and her boots and took off toward the water. But when she looked back and yelled “Come on,” she was smiling. It wasn’t exactly how Miranda had imagined the moment, but she treasured it nonetheless. Jack looked carefree, and that was not a common occurrence. Miranda picked up the boots and started down toward her.

****

That first day, they only stayed on the beach a little while. It was hot, and they were hungry. When Miranda slipped on a low-cut blouse to go out to eat, Jack whistled and said, “Whoa.”

“Too much?” Miranda asked.

“No, the perfect amount. You know you’re hot. No need to try to pretend otherwise.”

All during dinner, Jack stole glances and didn’t try to hide it.

As Miranda finished a second glass of wine with dessert, she said with a bit of a wicked grin, “You know what I think we should do?”

“I know what I think we should do . . .”

“Jack, patience is a virtue.”

Jack made a face and said, “Uh-huh.”

“I think we should each choose a sexual fantasy to fulfill on our little trip.”

Jack considered her with a raised eyebrow. “Okay, cheerleader. You go first.” Jack realized she didn’t have a lot of elaborate fantasies to choose from. Once she and Miranda were naked, whatever happened happened, and Jack was happy with it.

Miranda looked at her over the brim of her wineglass and said, “I choose that you have to watch me touch myself without you touching me. Or yourself.”

“You don’t want me to touch you? What kind of fantasy is that?”

“The kind where I get to see how turned on you get from watching me and how much control you can maintain when you’re that turned on.”

“Okay, when you put it that way, it sounds a little bit more interesting.”

Miranda smiled and put down her empty glass. “And what do you choose?”

“Whatever. Getting to go to bed with you is fantasy enough for me.”

Miranda rolled her eyes but her smile widened. “You’re as bad as Adam and his picnic basket.”

“No romance for you, huh, cheerleader?”

Miranda put her hand over Jack’s and said, “Actually, I like it.”

Jack smiled and said, “Actually, I know that.” She looked around for the server. “Let’s get the check and get out of here.”

****

When they got back to the beach house, Miranda wanted to walk down to the water’s edge again.

Jack sat on the sand watching Miranda dip her toes in the water, high heels in hand. “So, you like it here a lot?”

“I do. Don’t you?”

“Guess I’m a little used to closed-in spaces. I like the waves, like how they sound. I’m not so into this . . .” She let sand fall through her fingers.

Miranda walked up toward her and said, “I don’t know . . . it’s soft.”

Jack smiled up at her and reached out to run her fingers up Miranda’s leg from the curve of her calf to her inner thigh, her hand sliding gently on the skin under the fabric of Miranda's skirt. “No, this is soft.”

Miranda smiled back, then stepped away saying, “All right. No more touching for tonight.”

“Oh, that’s happening tonight, is it?”

“It is.”

“So no good-night kiss tonight?”

“I’ll make an exception for that.”

Jack stood up and pulled Miranda into the kind of slow, soft, open kiss that she knew drove her wild. When the kiss was over she said, “I think you’ll be making some further exceptions.”

Then Miranda turned to walk away, saying over her shoulder, “I don’t think so.” Jack would’ve sworn her hips were swinging a little more than usual. In her head she thought again, “What sort of lame fantasy is this?” But Miranda seldom revealed anything like this. Why not make her happy . . .

*****

Once they were back inside, Miranda said, “Get yourself a beer and wait for a few minutes before you come to the bedroom.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Now go to the kitchen.”

One of the highlights of Jack’s day was watching Miranda get undressed, so she shuffled toward the fridge grudgingly. After sitting in the breakfast nook alone for a few minutes, sipping a beer and marveling at how many different knick-knacks could be encrusted with seashells, Jack called out, “Can I come in there yet?”

A simple “yes” came from the bedroom. When Jack entered the room, the first thing she saw was Miranda’s perfect ass slightly in the air, a pillow beneath her hips. A bottle of lube and their newest toy without its harness lay on the bed too. Miranda was gently thrusting against the pillow, and her right hand was making lazy circles.

“You started without me?”

“There was no rule about starting without you. The only rule is . . . you can’t touch.”

Looking at Miranda, Jack’s heart sped up and she felt the pulse between her legs. “God, your ass is fantastic . . .” She thought, Miranda’s on to something here—this is pretty hot.

Jack pulled the chair where Miranda had flung the harness closer to the bed and sat down. She felt like no matter what position she chose, she was missing out on something. She sat and admired the view quietly for a few minutes. Finally she said, “So you like someone to watch?”

“Only you.”

“What about that shirt tonight?”

“That’s different. Only you get to see me naked. Only you get to see me like this. And only you get to touch me. Just not right now.” Miranda smiled to herself. She could feel the intensity of Jack’s gaze without facing her.

“I’m pretty damn lucky.”

“Hmmm.” Jack wasn’t sure if that was a response to her statement or Miranda’s own actions. Her pants were becoming more uncomfortable with every passing second. She started to take off her boots.

“You are fucking hot.” She dropped one boot. “I mean, your body is ridiculous. In the best way.” She dropped the other boot. She stood up and unzipped her pants as loudly as possible.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m getting undressed. You didn’t say I couldn’t be naked.”

“You’re right. I didn’t.”

After she had kicked her pants off, Jack walked around and crouched by the bed so she was facing Miranda.

“I’m serious. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And it’s killing me to not touch you right now.”

“Yeah?” Miranda asked quietly, the motion of her arm speeding up.

“Yeah.” Jack watched Miranda’s face getting tense with excitement, something she had watched so many times before. She put her hand on the bed next to Miranda and said, “Can’t I just put my hand on your back?”

“That is most definitely against the rules. Maybe I should roll over so you won’t be tempted by my back.”

Jack closed her eyes and let out a groan. “Maybe I should just close my eyes.”

“Then I’ll have to start moaning so you’ll have to listen.” Miranda made a sound she knew Jack always reacted to. Jack’s stomach instantly tightened.

“Miranda!”

“Yes?” Miranda rolled over, being sure to keep the pillow beneath her hips.

Jack’s eyes eagerly took in Miranda’s breasts. “Whatever you wanted to prove, consider it proven. This is hot, and I’m powerless to resist you. Miranda, please.”

“I didn’t want to prove anything. This is turning me on. And it’s turning you on too.” Miranda took the toy in one hand and with the other, squeezed lube onto it. For a second Jack was stunned into silence. Miranda began to press the toy’s length against her, the head of it near her glistening entrance.

Jack recovered her voice. “Oh my God. Can I please get in bed with you and touch you already?” Then more quietly and a little more seriously than she meant it to be: “Don’t you like how I touch you?”

Miranda shook her head and closed her eyes, “Jack, you know I love it.”

“So let me!”

Something about the edge in Jack’s voice was adorable. Miranda decided to take mercy. “Maybe you can help me with this?” Miranda was rubbing the toy on her clit.

Jack had seldom felt so eager. “Yes. Whatever you want.”

“What I want is for you to take this from me. And put it in the harness. And fuck me with it.”

Jack groaned, rested her head on the mattress, and said, “Thank you!” She stood up. When her hand touched Miranda’s reaching for the toy, she felt that familiar electric shock in her chest.

In a completely different, softer tone of voice, Miranda said, “Kiss me first.”

Jack knelt on the bed at Miranda’s side. She bent down to kiss her, softer and longer than on the beach. Miranda wrapped her left hand around the back of Jack’s neck, but with her right she kept touching herself. When the kiss ended, she looked in Jack’s eyes and said with a slight grin, “I’m waiting.”

For a second, Jack felt a little performance anxiety, but she decided she could trust herself to power through. She hopped off the bed with toy in hand and grabbed the harness.

“And take off that shirt.”

Jack was working as fast as she could. Shirt off, toy in, harness on and tightened. She walked to the end of the bed so she was positioned between Miranda’s legs and started crawl up the mattress. Miranda finally stopped touching herself and looked at her with anticipation. Jack stopped to kiss the swollen clitoris that was being presented to her so beautifully. Miranda’s body jerked beneath her. “Jack, up here. Now.”

Jack climbed up till she was face to face with her lover. She searched her eyes for a little direction and then Miranda was pulling her in for a kiss far more passionate than the ones earlier in the evening. As Miranda kissed her, Jack reached back to slide the ridge on the underside of the toy over Miranda’s clit. For a few moments she kept thrusting this way as they kissed. She couldn’t keep herself from groaning. Finally, she positioned the tip against Miranda’s entrance, rubbing it in circles there. When Miranda reached down to hold it, Jack began to thrust forward more firmly. For half a second there was resistance and then she felt herself pushing deep inside. The intense, gasping moan that came out of Miranda at that moment was one of the sexiest sounds she had ever heard.

Miranda wrapped her legs around Jack’s waist, and Jack slipped her arms under Miranda’s back and wrapped her hands around her shoulders. She felt right at the edge of losing control, plunging inside, while holding Miranda against her as tightly as she could. Between gasps of effort, she began to say every thought that came to her mind right into Miranda’s ear. “God, you are so fucking hot. I love being close to you. I love being so deep inside of you. I love being with you. I love you.” The way she said all this made Miranda wrap her arms around Jack’s neck.

“Jack, me too. Ohh . . . don’t stop.”

Jack felt like every inch of her was in contact with Miranda, and she still wanted to get closer. “I won’t. I love you.” She slowed her thrusting and kissed the side of Miranda’s neck, her cheek, her bicep, her cheek again. It was all so tender, Miranda could barely take it. She had felt so sexually turned on, but now she was feeling something else.

She found herself saying “I need you” with a kind of quiet desperation. The way she said it made Jack push up to look her in the face. Miranda’s eyes were so full of emotion, the sight made Jack’s chest hurt. She wanted to reassure her, to let her know she would never hurt her.

Jack said with a smile, “Hey . . . you got me.”

Jack couldn’t know all the thoughts swirling in Miranda’s head. How she had been planning for this trip for weeks. How their relationship might change after tomorrow. She had told herself that she wanted to offer security to Jack, but she was starting to wonder who really wanted the reassurance here. She had never felt for anyone else what she felt for Jack. No matter how often she told Jack she loved her, it would never express everything she had come to mean to her.

“Jack, I don’t just mean for this.”

Jack met her gaze and her seriousness and said, “I knew what you meant. Don’t worry. You’ve got me.” Miranda gave her the smallest of nods, but was too overcome to say anything else. Somehow even the simplest things Jack said and did made her love her more. She thought to herself, “Is this what being in love is? Totally losing control of my feelings? How in the world did this happen to me?” But it had.

At the same time, Jack was wishing she could say “I need you, too.” But she couldn’t make herself say it. She was still determined to show Miranda, touching her face, kissing her forehead, her eyelids, her mouth. Soon she and Miranda found a rhythm together that had the older woman closing her eyes and gasping for breath, her head tilting back. Jack shifted so Miranda could touch herself again, now with an exhilarated intensity. Jack felt both their bodies begin to tense. Every part of Miranda was holding her tight. It was Jack’s favorite sensation.

Then, Miranda’s nails were digging into her lower back, pulling Jack against her with her free hand. She cried out Jack’s name in utter surrender. Jack went limp on top of her, letting her full weight rest on Miranda, listening to her gasp “I love you.” Jack placed the smallest peck of a kiss on her cheek and said, “Miranda, I love you too.” Miranda was still trying to catch her breath. “Are you okay?”

“Jack . . .” She still sounded slightly desperate. She was shaking her head a little. Words continued to fail her.

Jack kissed her cheek again. “I’m here.”

“Oh, I know.”

Almost whispering, Jack said against her lover’s cheek, “Is that what you need to let it all go, Miranda? You know whatever you need, I want to give it to you.” 

Miranda sighed a little. “Maybe. Maybe I’m so in love you, I don’t know how to deal with it.” Jack had somehow always found the way past her defenses. She always revealed a little more than she had intended to.

“I think you’re dealing with it fine. Everything is good between us.” Jack moved so she was at Miranda’s side. She loosened the harness and slid it off, then turned to face her. She rested her hand firmly on Miranda’s chest and said, “I know a good thing when I see it. And touch it.” She gave her a little leering grin of triumph, but then in a second turned serious again. “Listen, all that stuff I say about how fucking hot you are? That’s all true. But that’s not why we’re here together. I want you to know I know that.” Miranda wondered, “Does anyone else in this galaxy know how sweet Jack can be? I’m the lucky one.” They lay there holding each other, caressing each other gently, and Miranda fell asleep with her head on Jack’s chest.

****

Miranda woke up early, full of nervous energy. When she woke Jack up, it was still dark outside.

“Come on, Jack. You said you’d watch the sunrise with me.”

Jack groaned a little, but she didn’t object. She knew this was something Miranda had wanted to do for a long time. She pulled on her pants and a t-shirt. Miranda reappeared in the door with all the blankets from the guest room.

“Come on.”

“I’m coming. Not in the fun way, but I’m coming.”

Stars were fading away as Miranda spread one blanket on the sand, then invited Jack to sit down right next to her. She wrapped the other blankets around their shoulders.

“You know there were blankets on our bed, right?”

“Don’t be grumpy. This is going to beautiful and I can’t wait to share it with you.” Miranda’s heart was racing at everything she meant by those words.

“Okay, okay. Come here.” Jack wrapped her arm around Miranda’s waist and pulled her closer. “I’ll be grumpy later.”

“Thank you.”

After a couple quiet moments watching the sky begin to brighten, Miranda said, “Do you remember when I promised we’d come to the beach?”

“Sure. That was a good night during a really bad time.”

“Jack, I want you to know I always keep my promises.”

“I know.”

Miranda couldn’t believe how nervous she felt. More than before any battle. Then, she had always known her skills—and the likely outcome. That supreme confidence that had once accompanied her every day . . . and night—where was it now?

“Jack, look at me.”

Jack turned to her, sleepy, disheveled . . . and so beautiful. “Yeah?” she asked.

Miranda felt like she couldn’t breathe. Finally, with the sensation of grasping for a ledge she could only barely touch with her fingertips, she said, “Will you marry me?” Her eyes searched Jack’s. For a second Jack didn’t react at all, then Miranda saw a hint of tears forming in her eyes. She felt herself immediately responding in kind.

Jack pushed through a haze of disbelief to finally say, “Are you asking me asking me or just asking if I would?”

Miranda shook her head in matching disbelief—Jack’s insecurities were never far from the surface. “Jack, I’m asking you right now.”

Jack thought, “She really loves me. I’m going to have a wife. A family. My family. . .” The expression on Miranda’s face let her know she hadn’t said anything aloud yet. “Miranda, yes!” Jack wrapped her arms around Miranda and hugged her with all of her strength. For a moment, they simply embraced each other.

Then Miranda reached in her pocket. “Here, I . . . I had this made for you.” She pulled back a little to hand Jack a smooth gold tag, rectangular with rounded corners. On one side a J was pressed into the lower righthand corner. The other side was engraved with an infinity symbol. A small hole was punched through the top, and a gold chain dangled there. “I thought maybe you could wear it. But it’s yours, to do whatever you’d like with. It’s just a reminder that I promise to spend my life with you.”

The sun was beginning to rise. Gold and pink rays poured across the waves and reflected off the tag as Jack turned it over in her hand, studying it. She enclosed it in a loose fist. She looked back up at Miranda, barely able to breathe. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.” The naked vulnerability Jack had revealed that night in Miranda’s small, dim cabin after the Reapers had been defeated was written all over her face again. She looked stunned—happy and stunned.

Miranda gently touched her face and said, “Thank you for everything. You’ve made my life so much better and happier than I could have even imagined before. I think if we can make it through a suicide mission and a Reaper invasion, we can manage marriage.”

“Yeah, I think so . . . Miranda, I’ll give you my best, always,” Jack’s voice was filled with heartfelt sincerity.

“I know you will. I will too.”

Somehow all this seriousness suddenly led both of them to start smiling ridiculously huge smiles at each other. And then they were laughing, releasing the weight of the feelings but keeping the positive afterglow all around them. Jack said, “Holy shit, cheerleader. I think you blew my mind.”

“You’ve been blowing my mind for a year. I owe you.”

They watched the sunrise, and Jack agreed it was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. Of course, she had lost all objectivity. Eventually, Miranda suggested they go back to bed to sleep for a while and Jack enthusiastically agreed, though she was dubious that they would be sleeping. But once she was in Miranda’s arms, she slipped back into a peaceful unconsciousness within minutes. She was maybe the most at peace she had ever been.

As Miranda lay there spooning Jack, pressed against her warm, soft skin, she remembered that first night Jack had been in her bed on the Normandy. She knew today when she woke up again, Jack would still be there. She realized everything she had hoped for since then had come true. They were alive. Her sister was safe. The Reapers were defeated. And Jack loved her back. She pulled Jack closer and thanked the universe.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to get these two from the Normandy to a proposal. I might write some smaller pieces about events after this, but this story is finished. Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> There are so many good fics about this ship. Anyone who loves it like I do should definitely check out the other offerings on AO3. Some of my favorites include the series Imperfection by SapphireSmoke, Forever by Skyeward, and No Bed of Roses by Montparnasse. Check them out if you haven't!


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